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baldwin-montclair · 4 years ago

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The Unlikely Advocate

Roman Holiday Concluded

After bringing her to his home island of Ischia - off the coast of Naples - Baldwin introduces her to the customs of the island, as well as continuing their game of control.

Surprising confessions ensue.

FIRST PART

Tags: @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @sylverdeclermont @lady-lazarus-declermont @ordinarymom1 @thereadersmuse @marirable @pleasereadmeok

“Bella!” The elderly matron appraised the work of her ‘priestesses’.

Clad in a white, very light and gauzy fabric chiton pinched in by ribbons, with her hair up in flowers, Eileen barely recognised herself. It seemed like a waste to get so dressed up to stain with the grape juice.

“Liber Pater will be pleased.”

“Baldwin?”

The three young women overseeing her transformation giggled.

“Our patron,” the Priestess explained “the Free Father. He has guarded us for centuries yet has never changed. We tend the fruits he grants us.”

“You think he’s a god?”

“No Senora,” the woman chuckled, “the gods do not answer prayers but he does. When we need him, he has always protected us.”

“I’ve found that,” Eileen smiled, remembering each time he’d come to her aid, “thank you for inviting me to be part of the celebrations?”

“He did not tell you?”

The women exchanged amused glances.

“It is the festival of Proserpina, consort to Liber, we’ve never had one before.”

“A Festival?”

“A Proserpina.”

“Wait, I’m not Baldwin’s consort, I’m just...” she stopped, unsure how to even continue, “this is technically our first date, if it’s even that!”

She wondered for the first time what was actually happening between them.

Friends didn’t seem sufficient, roommates might be closer since she’d been staying in his home for a few days. Roommates with benefits would require them actually being intimate, which is what she’d thought he was suggesting before spiriting her away to his Italian villa.

“I manage an international consortium of wine suppliers and buyers,” the Priestess nodded to the girls, “those are my granddaughters, they are going to Padua University in the fall, we live in the modern world like you. These are traditions we keep because they bring us together, and they are fun. We know what dating is, and the fact that you are our first and only Proserpina should tell you this is not that.”

“So,” Eileen started after a moment of stunned silence, “what is my part in the ceremony?”

“You and your maidens tread the first grapes of the harvest. In your absence they would perform this ritual as your proxies.”

“I’m guessing it’s quite messy?”

“Oh yes it is,” she smiled, “at the end, you will be quite covered. But we have cleaning facilities nearby.”

“High priestess,” Baldwin called from outside the tent, “if I may speak with the lady?”

“Of course pater,” she ushered the excited girls out the other side of the tent “she is ready”.

Eileen felt his gaze wash over her, cool and careful as she continued to look in the mirror.

“See something you like?” She asked.

“What I see is a vision of Venus herself!”

“Not Venus, Proserpina, consort of Liber who is, apparently, you.”

“It’s ceremonial, these are sensible people, they know I’m not really a God.”

“But your consort?” She challenged, catching his eye in the mirror reflection.

The grin held a glint of wolffish amusement as he approached her.

“I thought I would have more time to explain,”

his touch was light over the fabric on her shoulder but the coolness still imprinted on her climate warmed skin, “but our dear matron is much more strict with timing than any that have come before.”

“Explain what?” She asked with a dreamy sigh as he moved his hands to her waist.

“I was born here, the first time, I mean. We were wealthy, maintained the vineyard. I come here on this day every year, it just so happened to coincide with you, being here, with me. Is that fate or coincidence?” He pondered.

“It’s verging on a fairytale is what it is,” she shook her head, “a beautiful meal, two costume changes, a villa on an Italian island AND the opportunity to take part in a centuries old festival. What’s next? Are you planning on stealing the Crown Jewels for me?”

“Those trinkets,” he rolled his eyes, “I could show you stones of such size and rarity that they would destroy the global economy if they were to leave my vault.”

“Is that what you have planned for our next date?”

“Date,” he frowned, “you believe this is a mere date?”

“Honestly, I have no idea, it definitely does not fit the usual definition of ‘let’s go for a meal and awkwardly get to know each other’, but my frame of reference is kinda narrow.”

“Alright, let’s simplify it,” he framed her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, causing her to sigh in contentment, “as per our agreement, you put control in my hands until sunrise, call that our date if you wish.”

“And then?”

“And then, tomorrow, we’ll discuss my plans going forward.”

“Your plans?”

“Yes,” he answered with a bemused look, “that apartment is not safe. You’ll both move into the most secure floor in my building.”

“I can’t,” she choked, “I work from my home office, it’s where I meet my clients.”

“It’s a simple enough matter to redirect correspondence to your new address, and there is office space in the building, away from the living quarters. You can see your clients there.”

“Baldwin, I-“

“It will be your own apartment and I would only cross the threshold if invited to do so.”

“What, like a vampire?” She grinned.

“No, like someone with manners and a healthy grasp of social boundaries.” He retorted.

“Senora,” the woman called, “you are needed.”

“We can discuss the details later, you have a ceremonial duty to perform as my consort.” He teased, leaving the tent and her to her thoughts.

Move into his building? It was too much, too soon under normal circumstances but this was not normal circumstances. She had to consider what was best for Isobel, and the apartment was not safe.

The considerations could be decided later, for that night she was going to have fun, drink wine and not let the spectre of her family ruin her good time.

As it turned out, getting messy and sticky whilst stamping many grapes directly to hell was a much more cathartic and euphoric experience than several rounds with a punching bag.

Luckily there were showers set up to remove the grape entrails, otherwise the rest of the night would be more uncomfortable than it was already likely to be.

Wine.

A simple solution to a complex problem, a nice warm buzz was the goal and she interspersed the wine with water.

Dancing.

The energy of the towns inhabitants was infectious and just as intoxicating as the alcohol. She learned several dances, all the while aware of his Baldwin’s watching over her intermittently as he spent much of the evening on his cellphone.

An attractive, blonde South African male spent some time talking to her, and, being polite, she indulged him in conversation. This abruptly stopped when he placed a hand on her arm in a manner apparently too familiar for the sensibilities of the vampire watching over her, judging by the ice cold focus of his gaze on the site of contact.

The man’s eyes flickered off to the side and he retrieved his hand quickly, excusing himself.

Upon turning, Eileen found Baldwin standing a few feet away, glass in hand.

The festivities showed no sign of abating and after several more dances, Eileen scanned the celebrations for Baldwin but with no immediate success she determined that he would find her, and, enchanted by the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sand, she followed the shoreline to where it was quieter.

With not another person in sight, she leant against the large, heavy stones making up the beginning of a cave system and removed her shoes.

She wiggled her toes into the warm sand and sighed, then smiled a little at a whimsical desire. Deciding to follow through, she waded ankle deep into the tide and closed her eyes, completely lost in the sensation of peace.

That’s when she felt the focused chill of a vampire’s gaze quicken her pulse.

“Who was he?” Baldwin asked with a silken tone, a few feet behind her.

“No idea,” she turned to look at Baldwin.

There was something different about him and it took her a few seconds to realise he wasn’t wearing his tie, surprising as he didn’t seem like the type who relaxed. But, there he was, leaning against the large heavy rock she had just been using to remove her shoes.

“I was just being friendly.” She shrugged and received no answer.

“You’re not angry because I spoke with him?” She stepped towards him.

He didn’t answer but the look he was giving warned her not to push further.

“Oh you are!” She purred, placing her hands on his broad chest and tiptoed her fingers up to his shoulders playfully.

It was a childish impulse but she felt a tinge of satisfaction from his show of possessiveness.

“Don’t-“

“Don’t what?” She prodded, letting her fingers lace together on the nape of his neck.

“Don’t test me!” He stood completely still, but the evenness of his tone suggested his stature was closer to that of a coiled snake than a prey animal caught in headlights.

“Alright, I won’t,” she turned away from him to look out at the water, “I suppose I could catch up with him, Charlie. He’s handsome, right? Athletic, strong. Probably has quite high stamina.”

“That’s enough!” He warned in a low growl, simultaneously setting off every self-preserving alarm and, perversely, every ‘make-him-snap’ impulse.

“Well obviously it’s not my first choice but since I think you’ve tired of me already, a girl has needs!”

“Be very careful about your next words little witch!”

“You don’t agree with my choice,” she teased, “you can’t just picture him helping me out of this dress, taking me to his bed,” she glanced back for emphasis but found his expression impassive, unreadable, “or maybe he’d want me on my knees first.”

He approached slowly, quietly, and gently placed his hands on her arms before lightly trailing his fingers down.

Surprised by his gentle treatment, given her challenge, she hesitated, ready to apologise for her behaviour.

The tightening grip when he reached her elbows made the words catch in her throat

Suddenly, she was pulled tightly against him, the broad wall of his chest proving an impenetrable barrier against her back as her wrists were captured in one of his hands. The other clasped her throat, instantly making her freeze.

“You are a Percy,” he lightly brushed his lips over her jaw, “that means you have been well warned on the danger of stoking vampire jealousy. Would that be accurate?”

She took a breath to answer but he tsk-ed her with a shake of his head, tightening his grip

“Not a word, just nod if my assessment is accurate.”

She complied.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “I think that pretty little mouth of yours has gotten you into quite enough trouble.”

Her wrists were under his control but her fingers still had agency enough to seek out the front of his pants, lightly running her fingertips across his growing erection, making him groan quietly.

“Not yet.” She again picked up the challenge.

He was just as aroused by providing the rough treat as she was receiving it.

“You play a dangerous game little witch,” he rasped menacingly, releasing her throat momentarily to bind her wrists together with what felt to her like silk.

His tie.

Unable to move enough to touch him and with both of his hands free to do what he willed, she was in the game now.

“I assumed there would be consequences for my disrespect-“

She was cut off by a low chuckle.

“You do not decide what happens this evening, I do,” he warned, “did you think you could provoke me to anger so easily?”

“It’s like you said,” she stammered, not as sure as before, “vampire jealousy.”

“You noticed that I removed my tie before your little piece of theatre, there’s nothing you could have done to cause or prevent this.”

His hands moved to her shoulders and he gently slid the thin straps of her dress down her arm.

“Baldwin,” she protested sharply upon feeling the cool night air brush against her bare breasts, “someone might see!”

He snaked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him as he gently nipped at the side of her neck.

The sensation of being trapped was doing interesting things to her body and she willingly leant against him for support, softening into his control.

“There’s no-one even remotely near us,” he reached up with the hand not holding her to him to her chest, letting his index finger circle around the hardening bud of her nipple, “vampire senses come in very handy.”

“There’s no way you can hear,” she gasped at the delicious contact, “the music, the waves.”

“I can hear well enough,” he gave a gentle squeeze at her breast before placing the palm of his hand over her heart, the family signet ring on his pinkie finger somehow colder than him, “but if you’re worried about me being distracted, those are not the main contenders.”

“My heartbeat?”

“Obviously, I’m sure even you can feel it, but even that is a secondary rival for my attention.”

She didn’t reply, not verbally anyway. His words had an effect on her and like she feared he knew, they caused her to press her thighs together, an imperceptible amount to anyone else, but enough to cause him to huff slightly in satisfaction.

“Am I to guess?” She snapped, receiving a sharper nip at the side of her neck.

There was something deeply wrong with her danger senses, she feared, given the fact that she was not only putting her veins on display for a vampire, but that she was deriving pleasure from the activity.

Her trust was rewarded when he put his hand in hers, still tied behind her back.

“It is clear to me that your needs run more extreme than I thought,” his tone was gentle, calm and warm, “just know that if we continue and you push me, I will retaliate but no harder than the nip I just gave you. If you understand and accept then squeeze my hand once, if it goes too far then squeeze twice and we end the game here.”

She squeezed once and he removed his hand from her grasp to wrap it lightly around her throat. From there, he tipped her face up to look over her shoulder at him and captured her lips in a crushing kiss.

She melted against him, the kiss lighting her on fire whilst soothing something wild and afraid within.

She hadn’t even realised that he had undone the fasteners on the back of her dress until the meagre weight of the garment settled on her hips.

From the waist up, she was bare to him, the skirts of the dress still provided some modesty.

With the hand not curved around her throat, he trailed his fingers down her sternum and navel to slip suggestively into the gap between her dress and underwear.

“Good behaviour is rewarded,” he told her between kisses, “do you want to be good for me?”

She nodded, straining for him to kiss her more.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me!”

He smiled a little, hand tightening around her throat as if in response.

“I already am,” he teased, brushing his lips so close to hers but still just out of her reach, “so I must assume...”

Baldwin’s fingers travelled back up towards her navel and she fidgeted in his grasp.

“Be still!” He warned and she somehow managed to contain her movements.

“Aren’t you well behaved!” He taunted before slipping his hand inside her panties, causing her to gasp at the sensation of his cool skin against her warmth.

“I think if I don’t take you soon you may combust!” He murmured, stroking a finger between her folds, slick with desire.

He touched, teased and tested her readiness until she was a writhing, flushed and pliable putty.

In what seemed like a flash, he removed the tie, freeing her arms and turning her to face him.

He kissed her deeply and lifted her with her legs around his waist to the rocks where he effortlessly pinned her between himself and the sun warmed stone.

Pulling her underwear aside, he freed himself from just enough of his own clothes as necessary, then, with a nod of consent, he pushed into her warm, welcoming depth.

“You feel exquisite,” he groaned, pulling back slightly to push back in.

She clutched her fingers in the material of his shirt with the delicious sensation of being filled to the point of almost discomfort.

It had been a long time.

Baldwin gripped her thighs as he took her, hard, seeming to know exactly what she needed and he had her there much faster than anyone before.

“Baldwin” she cried, desperately trying to stop herself tipping over the edge, it was too quick, “I can’t, can’t stop.”

“You needed this, take it,” he kissed her as she shuddered in his arms, “and worry not little witch, this evening is far from over!”

Eileen woke as the sun started it’s ascent higher, 11am, according to the watch on the bedside, the watch still there as it’s vampire wearer himself was still asleep.

His skin was cooling her body under the hot Mediterranean climate, as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. The light cover tested loosely around their waist.

His heart beneath her hand barely beat as his chest rose and fell with shallow breathing.

He smelled tremendous, the Roman style bath he treated her to after their various exertions still bore the scents of the oil he gently cleansed her with, taking care to massage it into shoulders, wrists, anywhere he had earlier bound.

He then masterfully scraped off the oil with the strigil. A very intimate action given they were both naked at the time. A situation that normally might have been a cause of self-consciousness, at that time, after having been so thoroughly worked by his god-like stamina, she could only enjoy his attention.

The last thing she wanted to do was get up, disturb their peace so she huddled closer, her leg rubbing gently against his own, then she felt it brush her thigh.

Hard and cool as the marble in his frigidarium was his proud erection, now free from the confines of the fabric due to her movement.

She knew he was large, intimately so, but the sheer light of day exposed his skill in helping her to take so much of it.

Arousal twisted in her stomach at the sight of his powerful body and, mesmerised, she moved down the bed.

The first few quiet moans from him were gained from taking just the head into her mouth.

He didn’t actually awaken until she was halfway down the shaft.

“I see you’re still getting into trouble with that pretty little mouth of yours!” He grinned sleepily, lightly brushing his fingers across her cheek.

She released him with a definitive pop.

“It’s past sunrise,” she gazed up at him wantonly, her hand grasping tighter on his shaft, eliciting a hiss of arousal, “You’re no longer in charge.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, licking the tip of his cock for emphasis, “you just have to lie there and let me take care of you.”

There was a clear war in his mind from the frown on his brows to the half closed lids of his eyes.

“That’s not happening,” he brushed the hair from her face, “this trip is about you!”

“Now it’s about me showing my appreciation.”

Before he could respond, she took him into her mouth again, one hand on the base of his shaft as the other trailed up his body to rest over his heart.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his heart beating more insistent than before and she felt his muscles start to flex in an attempt to sit upright.

The wide eyed look of surprise on his face when he found himself pinned beneath her was satisfying as she again let him pop from her mouth.

“How-“ he inhaled sharply.

“You’ve never been with an earth witch, have you?”

“I’ve never been with a witch,” he confessed, “how are you preventing me from moving?”

“I can stop, if you want,” she offered with sincerity, “you’re probably not used to not being in control?”

“It’s disconcerting,” he admitted, “but you trusted me, perhaps it’s only right that I submit myself into your capable hands.”

“Are you telling me, after all the experience you’ve had, and how much you give, no-one has wanted to do this?”

“They have,” he admitted, “but, as you say, I like being in control.”

“Then, do I have your consent to continue?”

She felt the tension that settled into his muscles relax as he relaxed back onto his pillow.

He tilted his head to the side in an exaggerated attempt to study her proposal and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

“It appears I am in your hands Madame,” he grinned, “but please, I ask only that you are gentle with me.” He teased with infuriatingly attractive confidence.

She responded by placing a timid kiss on the tip whilst staring up at him with the most doe-eyed expression she could manage.

“As beautiful as you were last night,” he combed his fingers through her hair, “I must tell you, right now, you’re easily the most radiant creature I have ever seen.”

“You’re only saying that because I have your cock in my hands!”

“I’m saying that because it’s the truth, and another thing,” he tipped her chin up with his finger to force her attention on his gaze, “I’m in love with you.”

Whatever grasp on her earth witch powers allowed her to anchor on top of him was evaporated by his revelation.

Taking the opportunity of the upper hand, he pulled her to him and under him.

“Baldwin, I-“

“Don’t say anything,” he smiled gently, “it was my time to say it, if you feel the same way and find the right time for you, I’ll be there to hear it.”

Eileen bit her bottom lip as a mixture of pleasure and emotion combined into a heady mixture in her veins whilst Baldwin tested her readiness to take him once again.

With a push he was sheathed inside but stayed his movement for a moment to slip his arms beneath hers and brace his forearms at either side of her head.

The close quarters allowed him the capability to kiss her cheeks gently, then her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally, her lips. His hand gently cradled the back of her head as he started to move.

Overwhelmed by his admission and the tenderness of his actions, she buried her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder and her obligingly held her there until he felt her tighten around him.

“Baldwin, I-“

“I know, you’re almost there,” he soothed when she grasped at his back, “I’ve got you.”

He felt her flutter around him and took his own pleasure when he heard her speak.

“I love you too.”

After lunch, with the table in front of them covered in various documents and arrangements, they planned their immediate future.

“I’m not looking forward to packing,” Eileen rolled her eyes, “but it’s a small price to pay.”

“About that?”

“What?”

“I already had your things moved to the apartment I told you about. I’ll feel better with you close by, even on a different floor.”

“And we need a family friendly story.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well,” she laughed, “when your sister asks to hear the grand tale of our confessing our feelings for each other I can hardly tell her that her brother said it whilst her friend had his cock in her hand-“

“And your friend said it when the aforementioned brother brought her to yet another satisfying conclusion.”

“We’ll say beach!” Both suggested in tandem.

#baldwin montclair #a discovery of witches #adow #baldwin de clermont #adow baldwin #adow baldwin fic #adow fic

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skamamoroma · 4 years ago

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“I Told Sunset About You” - Review/Recap/Whole Bunch of Nonsense Rambling about my Love!

Every now and then a show comes along that I get absolutely knocked off my feet by and I can’t stop thinking about it until I write a whole bunch of nonsense because it’s THAT GOOD and this damn show. I’ve thought about it all week. Outside of the SCU and other longer running stuff, the last time a show sidetracked me like this was San Junipero and I dreamed about that episode for weeks! This show got to me so much that I knew I had to write that whole bunch of nonsense for real and I decided to write a bit of a review and then some specific posts about some of the themes, metaphors, ideas and shots etc that I adore. So if this is not your thing, I tag religiously!

So if you haven’t seen it, the show is about two young boys, Teh and Oh-aew, living in Phuket in Thailand about to take their entry exams/go through the Uni acceptance process. They were childhood best friends until they had an argument which caused them to stop speaking to one another for many years until they meet again at a Chinese class. The story is about friendship, identity, love, rivalry, family, authenticity, ambition and growing up. It’s sweet, funny, painful, warm, difficult, romantic, hopeful, honest and insightful. I hope you don’t fall asleep reading... !

My friend in Japan recommended this show to me. I watch a lot of movies/tv from different parts of the world but rarely from this part of the world not because I don’t want to - I DO! - I just don’t know what’s good and I tend to rely on recommendations from friends or coming across things by chance. If you’ve followed me for even a while, you know my JAM is character driven, nuanced, beautiful shows that go heavy on authentic emotion but use cinematography/music/sound/colour and other creative tricks to further the story. Nothing makes me go starry eyed more than a show SHOWING without a single moment of TELLING where it isn’t necessary and this show hit every single one of those things and more to the point that I was completely swooning at how much of a masterpiece it is. I swear some tiny moments in this show have me floored with how effective and meaningful they are. ARGH.

As icing on the cake, it’s beautifully LGBT+ themed (written in part and, I believe, directed by LGBT+ folks - if I’ve got that wrong from translations, let me know). These themes are created with care and love, felt refreshing with characters I don’t feel I’ve really seen before. I know that there is info to suggest that they wanted to create this show much more FOR LGBT+ folks and to differentiate it from a style of show that is perhaps more popular for a mainstream audience or a certain audience that wants a certain thing from some Thai dramas (I’m personally not into BL - I think that’s what the genre is called as I kinda don’t know how to feel about that stuff being hella tropey and made for a specifically straight female audience)… and you can tell. They apparently didn’t promote this as that genre. Some of the other themes were so interesting and explored so beautifully. The idea of rivalry and competition was handled with so much insight and depth that it really did stun me at time’s how skilled the writing is.

The acting… oh the acting. I know Billkin and PP have apparently been close friends for many years but even that sometimes doesn’t guarantee to equal this level of chemistry. They are stunning actors, genuinely nuanced, so charismatic and loveable. I love that even the sad anguished moments are messy as hell (and a couple so delightfully dramatic), the gentle sweeping romantic moments are swoon worthy and allowed to linger or exist in silence, the tension they create is often feels a little too intrusive to watch and the nuance - so much is said without saying anything at all. Some specific moments are handled with so much care when dealing with really complex emotion and I’m floored to see such young actors achieve some of the moments they do because some of the emotion is genuinely complex. There’s a lot of Teh who is terribly complex and to achieve that balance between difficult to work out and yet still feeling like you understand him is a very tricky thing and yet, that’s what I felt when I watched his character. I am in awe of their abilities to be honest and just found them completely mesmerising from start to finish. I love that a lot of their character traits are established so strongly through acting choices that by the end, when both have come kinda full circle and have learned from the other, you can see the OTHER in the OTHER, if that makes sense! Teh in the final few scenes takes on some of Oh’s characteristics. It’s so noticeable but never oversold. Perfect.I can’t overstate this enough! Some moments left me breathless for so many reasons.

My mum lived in Thailand for a while and in Phuket where the show is set and I loved seeing stuff I recognised from a few of her photographs. I felt I learned a lot about Thai culture too, stuff my mum would have learned and I adored the world surrounding these characters! Btw, if I get anything incorrect re: the culture - come shout at me! :)

The music. Knowing that the soundtrack was written for the show and sung mostly by the two leads was such a surprise because they are beautiful songs. The score is, and I cannot emphasise this enough, bloody gorgeous. There are parts where they play the most gentle soft piano music that kinda breaks my heart and others when they perfectly place the most uplifting soaring sounds that enhance some simple scenes so much that they felt so impactful. There’s a song on the score called Skyline Minimal which is used in a specific scene and in the documentary the director talks about how just the sound of it, you don’t need the lyrics, it just makes you miss someone and makes you cry and he’s absolutely spot on so that when you hear it, what happens on screen just shatters your heart. The soundtrack is woven into the storyline so deeply that the lyrics are used, the melody is used to trigger Oh-aew’s memories at one point and the pretend source of the main song, Skyline, is directly linked to not only the idea of learning Chinese and what that means for them both as characters and as a pair but two of the main themes of the season, ambition and identity!

The cinematography. Christ on a bike. I could write essays. I am a sucker for meaningful camera work, stuff that does half of the storytelling for you and I cannot praise this more highly other than to say it’s close to perfect. Some moments are so absolutely mesmerising and meaningful that a simple movement or a simple peek at something means a LOT. I’m going to have to write a whole damn post on some of my favourite moments because I can count on one hand the shows/movies of late that I’ve seen that achieve what this show does with camera work, directorial choices and general approach to non-verbal story telling. The level of thought and detail and using a camera in a creative and loving way... I found it so moving and so beautiful the way you could feel the level of consideration that went into the smallest moments, how entire moments of character development were done silently…

The use of metaphor. Anyone who knows me knows I am absolutely WEAK for this stuff. If a good complex emotion or concept can be developed in a way other than with words then I am yours… I will read into everything, enjoy every clever reference and revel in the use of colour or light or sound or motif. This show was a gift in that sense. I’m going to end up writing posts about stuff like the use of colour and the hibiscus flower and coconuts and the use of Chinese words. Again, some moments were so genuinely beautifully done and unexpected that I was like a kid in a sweetshop and was a little swoony over them. There are some moments when the Chinese phrases/words are used through their tutoring in a way to sum up the character’s feelings, moments are built up to by establishing motifs that, when used to their conclusion make for the most BEAUTIFUL or gut wrenching moments. The hibiscus flower scene/colouring in may be one of my most favourite scenes in the whole show and I just smile thinking of how wonderfully it was developed.

Another thing I truly adored was how I genuinely loved every single character. There’s no demonisation, no discarding of characters at the expense of others (especially as I hate when women in movies are treated this way when there’s no reason to), no characters who are used as scapegoats. If anything, you come out adoring the characters who traditionally “get in the way” of a pairing because, well, they don’t. They don’t feel in the way or an annoyance. They feel genuine and lovely and you root for them. That’s a really really kind way to treat your characters but, above anything, it’s just lovely to see that much consideration given to characters to treat them all as humans. I get a little sick of seeing ‘bad guys’, you know? I like flawed, messy but human people. Hoon as a big brother is so understated but when he appears and when it matters, some of his moments are so genuinely emotional it’s amazing how they allow him to be a typical brother, kinda dismissive and teasing his younger sibling but then he’s THERE and really fully there for his brother in some truly significant moments. It felt so earned for me and goodness, one moment kills me when Teh is full on in the middle of a family fight, sobbing and confused and in a room of them all, Hoon goes directly to his brother and the simple way it happens had me in bits. Apparently, that was an improvised scene too so it makes it a little special.

The ending. Any LGBT+ soul out there knows the pain of watching another miserable ending and, don’t get me wrong, I’m ALL FOR endings where you don’t necessarily get what you WANT but only ones that make sense and are earned so they make you think or realise you don’t NEED what you want etc. BUT also want happiness and hope and love and watching LGBT+ characters thrive. Not to spoil, but they treat these two very well by the end… you just have to make your way through a box of tissues first!

So yeah, it was alright. Hahahaha. I genuinely think it’s a masterpiece. I feel the love and care that went into it, the time taken to consider and think and find ways to say a LOT by saying very LITTLE. I feel the commitment to LGBT+ media, little nods to other shows/moments… I feel their wish to be original and to try to make new characters feel fresh and unseen. I just adored it and I’m so grateful it exists because as a piece of art, when you finish it and can write legit essays (and I’ve seen posts other people have written and I’m in NO WAY the only one here) then you know you’ve done something kinda special! So that’s me, getting my whole bunch of nonsense down… and now I can make specific posts and ramble a whole bunch more! Mwahaha.

#itsay #i told sunset about you #thoughts etc

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soheila-1996 · 5 years ago

Text

My story- Part Thirteen

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t. Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate. There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback is really appreciated! :)

Tags: @kacie-0156 @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019 , @cordonia-gothqueen, @bobasheebaby @losingbraincellseveryday @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @flutistbyday2020 @debramcg1106 @anotherbeingsworld @leaharhys @cordoniaqueensworld @bascmve01

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, mention of miscarriage.

Word count: 5,316

Catch up here

This one again is super personal to me. They all are personal in one way or another but this one and the one about my miscarriage are extremely personal.

I really debated writing this in but writing is such an amazing outlet. I was in such a dark place when I lost the baby last year and I didn’t see a way out so I did things that I’m not proud of. I tried to take my own life and now i’m so beyond happy that my attempt was unsuccessful, however, everything has just gone really wrong over the last few weeks and I’ve just started feeling really down again. Writing about my feelings is kind of helping me get out of this funk.

(Riley’s POV)

It’s now the next morning since I arrived back from the hospital. Liam, my parents and my brother had tried to get me to come out of my room but I was being a rebellious teenager and refused to open the door. I think Liam has slept in the spare room. We live in a literal palace so there’s plenty of space for him to stay. I don’t think any of them can understand how I’m feeling. I know that everyone has days when they feel down and a little depressed but I feel like this all the time. I’m numb. I go through my day like a robot. Physically I’m here but mentally I’m a million miles away. I just don’t feel anything anymore.

Everyday just blends in together until it makes no sense anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy. My memory has just gone; I don't even remember what I had for breakfast...If I had breakfast at all that is. I hate this so much.

I’ve taken my medication for the first time in a while earlier this morning after a heated debate with my parents. I struggle to see how any of them think that taking a few pills is going to do anything. It should stop the seizures but it’s not going to change how I feel.

I feel suffocated. I don’t need to be treated like I’m a baby. I’m just...I’m tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, I’m just so exhausted all the time. I am sick of faking being happy; it doesn't work.

Losing the baby was just my breaking point and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from it. I don’t want to come back from it. Why would I want to carry on knowing that the rest of my life will be spent in fear of a seizure, that I might not be able to give my husband the one thing he wants more than anything, or with the possibility that I’ll get out of this hole and in a short while end up back here again?

I just want it to stop.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” I ask, bitterly. I’m sitting on the couch in silence with the rest of my family. I can feel Josh’s eyes on me. I turn to look at him as he averts his gaze. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Just talk to us, Ri,” my brother encouraged.

“About? I told you last night all you need to know. I’ve fucked everything up,” I say, raising my voice as I stand up.

“No, you haven't,” Josh insists.

I shake my head and let out a frustrated groan. When are they going to understand that telling me that everything is fine, that I didn’t fuck up isn't helping? It goes in one ear and out the other. I look back to Josh. “Why are you here, Josh? Who invited you?”

This isn't me. I’m not mean. I’m not like this. I love my brother, growing up he was my best friend but I just don’t care anymore.

“I don’t need my big brother to come and save the day. I’m an adult!” I yell. I’m so easily agitated. Maybe that’s down to the lack of sleep...I don’t know. “And you!” I yell as I turn my full attention to my husband. “You only care because it makes you look like a good person, doesn't it? Lovely, kind Liam married the girl with a disability!”

He looks stunned...maybe a little hurt even. Liam opens his mouth to speak but obviously decides against it. “H-how can you say that?”

“Because it’s true,” I shrug. Nobody says anything to object and in my head they’re just confirming it. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody has used me and my disorder to make themselves look like a better person.

Liam gets to his feet and attempts to step towards me. I hold up a hand to stop him. “Just leave me alone,” I command.

I move past him, grab my phone off the coffee table then I leave the apartment. I need to just be away from everyone.

I need some space.

Jacob and I have been getting particularly closer over the last few weeks. He had visited me a couple times while in the hospital and had been coming over after school. I’m still not back but my parents have agreed to let Jacob, Luna and a couple of my other friends come over.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my siblings and parents but I’m starting to get a little sick of being stuck with them all day. The house has currently been chaotic- Josh is moving out, he’s been saying this for a couple years though, to be fair he had actually moved out with his girlfriend but they had broken up. It was rather tragic actually. He really loved it. Casey is also about to move out and to Boston apparently.

Jacob and I are snuggled up on the couch, blanket draped over our legs, despite the fact it’s the middle of the summer in NYC. Although I’ve got the AC on high enough that at least we’re not dripping with sweat as we cuddle.

Sitting inside is not the ideal thing to do on such a beautiful day however, sometimes, much like now the heat has been known to cause more seizures. I don’t mind sitting inside though; I’m not really a fan of the sun, I burn really easily. That might possible be now to me being a ginger- the sun hates me.

Jacob is just amazing. Since he found out about my epilepsy he has been amazing. He makes sure that I’m on my side and helps me wake up when the seizure ends. Obviously, epilepsy is a big thing to deal with when you actually have it but it’s also a big thing for the people are you too but Jacob doesn’t seem bothered by it or is overly worried. It’s nice and refreshing to have somebody who isn’t constantly worried, however, we haven't really discussed it so he doesn’t know much about it.

We spend a little while longer watching celebrity masterchef- Jacob is from the UK and had introduced me to the show a little while ago as we talk about what it's like back in England. It’s nice learning about where he’s from. He’s lived in the States for a few years now but still has a very, very British accent.

“What triggers them?” Jacob asks, breaking the comfortable silence between us both. I look up to him with a raised eyebrow. “Your seizures. What triggers them?”

I clear my throat, thinking about what I'm going to say before I speak normally makes me stutter a little less. “Q-quite a few t-things. N-not taking m-my medication, sleep d-d-deprivation, s-stress, if I get t-too overwhelmed can t-trigger them, if I d-don't eat can s-sometimes cause them or if I get t-too hot.” I explain, internally cringing at how much I just stuttered. Speech therapy it helping, it’s not as bad as it used to be but it’s nowhere near back to how it was before. He nods. “W-When I-I was younger hot showers sometimes triggered them or caused an aura,” I add, “I-it doesn't really happen anymore. I-i-It’s a m-minefield s-s-sometimes.”

“Aura?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I nod, “N-not like a-a s-s-spiritual one. It's what t-t-the feeling you get before a s-s-seizure is c-called.”

“And you get that every time you’re about to have a seizure?”

“M-m-most of the time. Occasionally they just k-kinda happen but n-n-normally before a grand mal s-seizure I will. W-when I have absences they just happen b-but they’re m-much e-easier t-to recover from. They happen a-and then i-I’m fine s-straight away,” I explain.

“Absence?” he asks. It dawns on me that he really doesn't know much about my seizures or seizures in general other than the basic first aid while it’s actually happening.

I turn around to face him and bring my legs under me. I take some time to think about my sentence before I speak. “Yeah, there’s different types of s-s-seizures,” I tell him, “Grand m-mal s-seizures are the m-most r-recognisable s-seizure; it’s the m-most c-c-common one people think about but then there’s a few others. I have absence seizures which is when I kinda just s-stare off into space for a couple s-seconds. I’ve also had a couple m-m-myoclonic seizures too.”

“What’s that?”

“It n-normally happens in n-both arms but not always, your m-mouth can twitch and your jaw can jerk. It can happen to the head and neck too but the person is fully aware of what’s happening. They’re really scary- all types of seizures are.”

We talked for a little while longer about my epilepsy and eventually changed the subject to something a little happier. I was engrossed in our conversation when my stomach rolled.

Not now.

I took in a deep breath as I tried to get rid of the nausea. It doesn’t go away and my arm starts to tingle. “J-Jake, i-it might happen again,” I told him, panicked- this never gets easier.

He peeled his gaze off the tv and turned to me. “Ri, you had one this morning. Are you sure this is okay?” He asks me with concern.

It’s true I had one this morning but unfortunately my brain doesn’t really care about if I've already had one today. I’ve learned that it’s going to do whatever it wants and that I have no say in it.

Jacob helps me off the couch and onto the floor. This one is coming on really, really quickly. I don’t remember anything anymore; nothing makes sense. Basically, as soon as I’m laying down on the floor I’m consumed by blackness.

I’m now outside after storming off. Taking a walk through the palace grounds often helps me to clear my head. I’m head to the garden maze- that’s my favourite place. The place I can go to and just clear my head and attempt to make sense of everything.

Everything is a mess. Why can’t I just open up to people? Why can’t I be honest with people about how I’m feeling? There’s thick dark grey clouds looming over me. It’s going to rain. Great. Even the weather seems to be in sync to how I’m feeling.

I want to be able to open up. I want to stop feeling like this but do I deserve to feel better? I don’t think I do.

Ben constantly made me feel like shit and so did all his friends. My teenage years especially were made up of people telling me that I’m worthless or should’ve died and now it’s made up of having everything that I want so incredibly badly taken away from me.

Is there any point to any of this anymore? I can’t seem to find one.

Josh, my mom and dad, Liam, my friends all ask me if i’m okay and I say i’m fine. It’s a habit. I tell them that I’m okay while I’m screaming on the inside that I’m not; praying that they’ll continue to push me enough so I finally break and tell them...but they don’t. They think giving me space and time is helping me but while I’m alone I just dig myself a deeper hole; one that I’m never going to be able to escape from.

Every time they leave me alone it's like they’re putting me back into a cell, all by myself, alone with these crippling thoughts. My mind is a prison and I’m never getting out.

I continue to walk for a little while longer. It’s cold and I can feel the rain lightly starting to fall but I don’t want to go back. Not yet.

I can feel the salty tears streaming down my cheeks but I don’t wipe them away. What’s the point? They’ll just soon be replaced with more.

My family, my friends, my husband...they hate me don’t they? I snapped at Josh, at Liam...I- I suddenly come to a halt when my stomach rolls and I feel that all too familiar feeling again.

My arm is beginning to tingle, everything is growing more and more confusing. The one thing I know is that I want my husband. I want Liam.

Why was I so mean to him? He was only trying to help.

He’s going to be even more angry at me after this. I can’t tell him; he’ll be mad. I think for a second. There’s one other person that won’t be mad at me...

Casey- my doctor sister.

I retrieved my phone from my back pocket, nearly dropping it onto the floor in the process. I clumsily find her contact and type out a barely coherent text.

Me: Im goins to hsve a seizure

Even auto-correct can’t help me. The device in my hand makes a sound just seconds later as a reply comes in.

Casey: Like right now?

My vision is starting to blur and I know longer know how to respond to my sister. Nothing makes sense.

The device starts to vibrate and sound comes from it too. I fumble with it and manage to answer.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice slurred. I try to hold the device to my ear but coordination is not something I possess right now so it rests on my cheek. I’m sure this isn’t right.

“Ri?” My sister’s concerned voice sounded through the device, “Where are you?”

“I..”

“Where’s Liam, Ri? What’s going on?” She sounds serious.

“He doesn’t w-want t-to,” I stutter. I can feel the tears starting to prick at my eyes.

“He’s mad,” I slur.

“Where are you?”

“O-outside,” I stutter.

“Can you lay down on your side for me?” She directs me gently. I comply and lower myself down onto the wet grass and lay on my side. I can feel something hitting me...like rain.

“He’s mad,” I whisper. That’s all I know; Liam’s mad at me and won’t want to help me.

“He still wants to help you,” She told me but I don’t believe her. “Riley, I need you to stay on your side for me, okay? I’m going to call Liam.” I think she’s hung up I can’t hear her anymore.

I close my eyes; feeling my body be covered in goosebumps as the freezing cold rain hammers down. “H-He’s m-m-mad at m-me.” That’s the last thought I have, the last thing I can say before the world goes black.

(Drake's POV)

I’m out on my morning run on the way back to the palace now. Rain has started to pour and the crisp air has started to sting at my exposed arms, legs and face.

I’m jogging along the path on the way back to the palace when I notice somebody laying on the grass. I slow down a little and change direction to head over.

As I get closer I realise that it’s Riley so pick up my jog. I finally reach her and kneel down beside her. I lean over her slightly to look at her face, her eyes are closed and a little blood is pooling out of her mouth. Without thinking, I wipe it away and onto my black shorts. I then brush hair away from her face. My hand brushes against her skin- she’s freezing. Based on the fact that the blood is still wet I concluded that the seizure must’ve stopped really recently so I lift her up into my arms and head back inside.

As I enter the palace, I see Liam walking down the grand staircase. I see tell by the expression he’s got on his face that’s her scared and panicked. He visibly relaxes when he see’s us. Liam hurries down the rest of the steps and over to us.

“Is she okay?” Liam asked, his voice wavers ever so slightly.

I don’t really know the answer to that question though. I mean, I’m only guessing she had a seizure based on how I found her. I shrug, “I-I just found her outside and- “

“Her sister just called me,” Liam told me, “Casey said that Riley thought she’s going to have a seizure.” Liam held out his arms to me and I gently place Riley in his arms. “She’s freezing.”

We head away from any prying eyes of any of the staff into a nearby drawing room. Liam gently places her down on the floor on her side and takes a blanket off the couch and lays it over her. He then kneels down beside her and slips her jacket, tossing it carelessly to the side. He then slips off her soaking wet shoes and socks, discarding of them in the same way.

“Where was she?” Liam asked as I perched on couch.

“Near the entrance to the maze.” Liam nods and I can sense there’s something going on. Is that any of my business though? Probably not but I can see that whatever is happening, what ever happened is starting to take a toll on him.

He looks like he hasn’t slept. I can see that he’s been crying but his red-rimmed eyes. I’ve never seen him look so..broken before.

“What’s going on, Li?”

I’ve never seen him life this and this has me feeling a little panicky. Liam clear wants to cry, his eyes are welling up to the brim but he’s holding it in. He doesn’t take his gaze off of her as he continues running his fingers through her damp hair.

“She called Casey because,” Liam pauses, his voice cracking, “Because she was afraid to tell me, that I would be mad,” He told me, avoiding my question.

“You know she’s not herself when she’s like this.” I try to reason, “She was just confused, Li.”

Liam doesn’t say anything and I can take the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Riley’s actions have hurt him- that much is obvious.

It’s a couple minutes later when Riley’s eyes start to flutter. I get to my feet and clear my throat to get my friends attention.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Liam gives me an appreciative nod as I take my leave.

(Riley’s POV)

The first thing I notice is the feeling of cold, wet clothes clinging to my body. Goosebumps spread across my skin. I open my eyes fully and notice a hand laying in front of me.

... Where am I?

I soon realise that the hand is mine as i lift a finger. It’s almost like I’m underwater, my hearing is muffled but I can just about hear something....maybe someone....shifting on the floor next to me?

..What’s happening?

I can feel myself beginning to panic. My heart is pounding. Everything seems loud. Why? It’s almost like it’s reverberating as a wall of sound hits my ears. It takes me some time to realise that the only sound other than my breathing and heart beat is a voice? It’s saying words that I don’t understand in my confusion. They’re speaking a language that makes no sense to me right now.

I make my best effort to move away but I barely shift an inch. I’m really trying to escape but I can’t. Why can’t I move? A helpless, scared cry escapes my mouth. I feel terrified as I see the figure move in front of me.

As they shift into my line of vision, their features become clear and the words they’re speaking, the strange language becomes less jumbled and more coherent.

“Love, love come on it’s alright. It’s over now, love. I’m here.” I realise that I know how that voice belongs to. That face.

There’s something about it that feels familiar, safe even. I look up at him, a strand on dirty blonde hair falls over his face that he soon pushes away. “Hey, Riley,” he says, gently. I can see his mouth moving but I’m still not sure who the man is. “It’s Liam.”

Liam- that name….I know that name I realise.

Liam.

I exhale and relax into the hard floor beneath me. He seems to notice my more relax body language and shifts closer to me.

“You had a seizure,” he explains to me. I wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion, the last thing I remember was walking outside. h-how did I end up in here? “Drake brought you inside. It was raining and you were freezing.”

I nod and with his help, I manage to sit myself up. I wipe my mouth, it comes away with a red substance on the back. I’m still a little out of it and I don’t realise that it’s blood.

Everything begins to come back to me- I snapped at Liam. He’s angry at me, he’s upset with me. I accused him of something I know that he’d never do. I look up at him but I can’t read him. He’s angry.

He’s so mad.

My eyes begin to well up. It’s made such a mess out of everything, he’s mad at me, he doesn't love me anymore, he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I shift away from him and he looks almost surprised. Is that worry flashing across his face?

No, no, it can’t be. He’s mad.

“You’re okay, Love,” He tells me. He tries to reach out to me to pull me back over but I continue to shift away, I nearly topple over- I still don’t have full control over everything just yet “You’re okay, Riley,” he tries again, “Everything’s okay.”

It’s not. Nothing is okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay. I’ve made such a colossal mess of everything.

I shake my head at him as tear slips down my cheek. Liam instinctively reaches out to try and brush it away but I move away from him.

I look away from him to take in my surroundings. I looked down realising I’m now missing my jacket, shoes and socks and a blanket is down draped over me. I think back to what Liam had said as some of the puzzle pieces slot back into place. It was raining...I remember that. At least now I under why my clothes are soaking wet.

“Ri,” Liam calls, moving closer to me. I scoot away from him once again. His face falls and I’m pretty sure I can now see his eyes starting to well up. “Please.” He sounds defeated. He sounds scared and upset and that’s all my fault.

I look up at him to see some tears trickle down his face. I want to cry to but why should I be allowed to feel upset? I caused this. This is my doing. I’ve wrecked everything single-handedly.

This is the first time that I’ve really looked at me. There’s big bags under both his eyes, his hair is unkempt, he even looks as if he’s lost a little weight, there’s stubble on his usually clean shaven face.

I’ve broken him. I’ve broken the man that I’m supposed to love and protect.

** It’s a couple hours later. It’s night now and I’ve been tossing and turning in this bed for what seems like hours. Liam and i had both returned to our quarter after that incident. I had headed to bed and had fallen asleep soon after only to wake a short time later and had spent the rest of the day laying in bed staring at the ceiling. I must’ve fallen back into my slumber at some point because I woke back up to find myself wrapped in my husbands arms and him sleeping soundly beside me. That all happens hours earlier though and i still haven’t been able to drift back off enough then I’m exhausted.

It’s hard to remember a time when I didn't feel utterly useless and hopeless. It amazes me how I’ve somehow managed to convince people that I’m okay for years. How I’ve some how managed to convince my family and friends that I’m okay with a fake smile when they are the people who are supposed to know me better than anyone; the people who are supposed to call me out on my bullshit.

Liam is sleeping beside me so I quietly got out of the end and headed down the hall to our home study. I close the door half way and I switch on the desk lamp that sits on the corner of the desk. I plop down into the seat behind the desk and open the notebook sitting in the middle and pick up a pen out of the pit.

Dear Liam,

First things first, this isn't your fault. I need you to know that. I know that you’ll blame yourself but I don’t want you to.

I’m not really sure what to say or how to explain this to you.

Everything is just so hard. Most of the time, I’m able to handle it and keep going with my life without my daily routine being affected too much but not anymore. I’m stuck in possibly the worst depressive episode that I’ve ever been in and I just don’t see a way out, Li.

I know that I should just talk to you but when I try there’s a voice at the back of my mind screaming at me that I’m nothing but a burden to you, my parents, our friends. I’m not sure when I started feeling like this. At some point everything started to feel pointless, I'm just not sure when.

You’ve made me so happy, Liam. I love you. I love that since you found out about my epilepsy you haven’t treated me like a kid or let it define our relationship. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry that I scare you every time it happens. I’m sorry that I lost our baby. I’m sorry that I’ve shut down and pushed you away since it happened. I’m sorry that I’m not the woman that you married or at least I don’t feel like her anymore.

There’s not one reason why I’m doing this. There isn't a clear explanation. So many things have contributed to this but none of them are your fault. If I were to try and explain this feeling to you or my parents or anyone; you’d all say something along the lines of ‘it’ll get better’ ‘this is a long term solution for a short term problem’ or ‘ You’ve still got your entire life ahead of you’- the problem is that I don’t want it. There’s nothing more to it. I just don’t want to be here anymore. It's all just too hard.

I’m sorry; I know this will hurt you for a short while but you’ll move on. You’ll be okay. You’ll be amazing. I promise. I know I have no right to ask anything of you right now but...be happy. That’s all I want.

I love you.

Goodbye, Liam .

I place down the pen and look down at my letter. There’s a couple tears stains on it now but none of the words have been smudged.

I carefully tear out the page from the notebook and get to my feet. I quietly pad down that hall to our bedroom; Liam is thankfully still asleep. I stay in the doorway for a few minutes watching him sleep. In a short few hours he’ll wake up and I’ll be gone.

I place the note down on my bedside table then enter the bathroom that’s conjoined to our bedroom. I quietly closed the door and headed over the sink counter top.

I sniffle and wipe at both my nose and eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I look at my reflection; I look dead already. I don’t look like me...like a human. I don’t recognise myself at all anymore.

I glance away from the mirror and caught sight of the little muti-coloured pill containers just in front of me. It’s like it's screaming out my name, telling me to just down them all and it’ll be over. Take the pills and not wake back up. There’s not a doubt in my mind; I just want it all to stop. I can’t do this anymore- I don't want to. I can’t.

If I do it, Liam will be happy that he won’t have to worry about me anymore. No one will have to spend time and energy worrying about me anymore.

I picked up the container and popped open each little compartment and tipped them into my hand. A couple of them roll out of my hand on fall to the floor but there’s enough in my hand to do the job already.

I placed them into my mouth and swallowed them dry. I cough as they nearly get stuck going down my throat. I’m not sure how I feel right now. It’s an indescribable feeling that I can’t quite explain.

I know that It’ll soon be over, I thought I would feel relief but I...I’m scared. I still feel relief because I know that this’ll all be over soon but I’m not so sure that this was the best decision.

I feel regret for a brief moment before I remember why I’m doing this and that feeling ebbs away. This is right decision- I’m positive.

It’s a couple minutes later when I’m startled when I hear someone knocking on the door. I freeze and turn to slowly look at it.

“Riley? Honey, open the door.” That’s my mom. Why does she want? How does she even know it’s me. “Ri, you’ve been in here a long time. Please open the door, so I know you’re okay. Please?”

I forgot she was an night owl- she must’ve been in the living room or something and saw me come in here.

“I- I’m a little busy right now,” I called back. I just hope she’ll buy that and leave me alone. She doesn't need to see this.

Shit- I forget someone will come in here when it’s over and find me. I hadn’t thought of that.

I hear a brief commotion… more voices….more people are outside. Someone bangs on the door. “Riley, open the door.”

That’s Liam. Shit.

I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. My skin is pale and beads of sweat are now forming on my forehead.

I don’t feel so good.

I wave my hands in front face to try and cool myself down. I’m so hot.

“Ri, It’s dad, open the door,” My dad pleads, “Honey, please open the door.”

I think someone just rammed into the door. It happens again and the door flies open, the frame splintering. Liam is the first person I see...kind of , my vision is starting to blur. I sway back and forth, I feel so out of it.

“What did you do?!” my dad yells. Somebody is holding me up, I can feel someones arms wrapped around my waist. I think it’s Liam.

I’m dizzy.

I hear my mom let out a sob. “Riley!”

The voices around me, the terrified screams of my family don’t register. I stumble back into my husband’s chest. My knees buckle and I’m vaguely aware of being lowered down onto the floor.

I’m barely aware of what’s going on around me, the flurry of people, nothing makes any sense. All I know is that I don’t feel good and I’m scared.

I’m trying to pay attention to what’s happening but I’m tired. I’m so tired and sleep is calling my name. My eyes flutter shut and I’m consumed by darkness.

#my story #tw sucidal thoughts #tw suicide #tw seizure #tw overdose #tw mention of miscarriage #the royal romance #trr #epilepsy #tw; depression #trr choices #choices #liam x riley #soheila-1996 writes

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otomebois-bb · 6 years ago

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Sunflower🌻

(Saeran Choi & MC)

Quick note: originally, I wrote this with the song Sunflower (by Post Malone) in mind, but then I looked up the meaning of sunflowers and decided to go with that instead. I put the meaning of the flower in bold. It starts off as angst, and ends as fluff. Enjoy!

*Spoilers: slight spoiler(s) about Ray's route in the very beginning*

~~~~

"You're useless."

"You can easily be replaced."

"You're just a toy."

"Once you leave this place, I'll be much happier."

His cruel words circulated through my mind like poisonous venom seeping into my veins, slowly eating away at my sanity. I stood by the window, longingly staring at the full moon and wishing that my confidence still shined as bright as it did — yet, the longer I was here, the longer I endured nasty words being thrown at me, the more I wilted, like a flower deprived of sunlight and water.

My stomach grumbled hungrily, and I sighed, turning my gaze to the door of my room. When Ray disappeared, Saeran refused to let anyone but himself enter, refused to let me leave the room, even refused to feed me — however, recently, V had been risking his very life to secretly leave food by my door; a gesture I greatly appreciated even though it put him in harm's way. He didn't do so often since it was too dangerous, but when he did, he tried to leave me a generous amount to last me until the next time he brought food. Sadly though, Saeran of course found out (though he didn't seem to know it was V's doing), and increased the amount of watchful eyes around my room to ensure it didn't happen again. Though his method was successful, I tried to be hopeful V would come back — but that hope was another thing in me that was slowly deteriorating.

My eyes welled up, and I glanced back out the window, trying to focus on the moon's beauty rather than the ugliness of my thoughts. It worked, at first...

However, the quiet sound of the door opening didn't fail to catch my attention since my senses were on hyper alert. My eyes, widening, immediately shifted in its direction, but upon realising it wasn't Saeran, I calmed down; only slightly though, because the hooded figure that entered, shutting the door behind them, wasn't someone I recognised.

I sighed. "Do you need something?"

The person spoke harshly, with a deep male's voice: "Not from you." He slowly stepped closer to me.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Then why are you here? I thought no one but Saeran was allowed to come in..."

He stopped about a foot away from me, more or less. That's when I noticed he was holding something behind his back, and my confusion only grew more. "I'm aware that I'm not supposed to be here. However, you've become a distraction to Mr. Saeran, and everyone — except me — seems too afraid of him to do anything about it, so..." He lifted his arm, and I heard a soft click; he'd been hiding a gun, and just cocked it, ready to pull the trigger with the weapon aimed at my forehead. I could see the psychotic grin on his face in the moonlight as he announced, "I've come to get rid of you myself. If I kill you, perhaps that boy will finally show the Saviour some good results of the tasks he's been given. Any last words?"

For a moment, I merely stared at the gun, debating if it was even worth fighting him to live. My shoulders sank as I decided it wasn't — Saeran wasn't Ray; he didn't care about my health or happiness the way Ray had, so what was the point? This Believer was probably right — with me out of the way, it seemed likely Saeran would make more progress since I wouldn't be around for him to complain about. He didn't like anything about me; hell, he despised my very existence. Why would he care whether I lived or died?

Finally, I sighed, and simply whispered, "Do it."

His smirk stretched wider, and I shut my eyes while he replied with an excitement in his voice, "Gladly."

Before he could pull the trigger, though, someone loudly banged on the door. Startled by the sound, my eyes snapped open — in time to notice the man in front of me jump in surprise, his arm lowering to my stomach...

And a gunshot sounded.

Suddenly, everything was moving in a blurry slow motion. The door slammed open, revealing a figure that vaguely resembled Saeran. Seeming to panic in his presence, the Believer jumped out of the window behind me, the sound of glass shattering and the gun hitting the floor ringing in my ears. I reached down with both hands to clutch my stomach, and when I brought them into my view, the sight of the dark redness painting them caused the pain to finally register, and my legs, no longer able to support my weight due to the overwhelming faintness I felt, gave out beneath me. My head hit the soft carpet, my eyes staring blankly ahead, my breaths being taken in sharply and rapidly. A moment later, I barely felt my body being moved, and the blurry features of Saeran's face entered my eyesight. He seemed to be shouting my name, and I could make out enough of his face to notice the concerned and desperate expression he wore, and it seemed like he might've been crying as well.

The last thing I could remember before going unconscious was the light feeling of being picked up and carried somewhere at a brisk pace — and a single question repeating in my thoughts:

Why?

~~~~

A grandfather clock ticked painfully loud, and grew louder as the image of it became clearer and closer in front of my eyes. Everything around me was shrouded in darkness, including my own body — everything except that damned clock. The hour hand drew closer to the twelve as the ticking continued, seeming to move slowly yet alarmingly quick at the same time.

Finally, the hour hand reached the twelve, and a jarring chime blared out. At the sound, my eyes shot open, and I instinctively tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain and fall back onto the mattress I'd been resting on. The pain flared throughout my body, stemming from my stomach, and it was then I realised my surroundings were completely unfamiliar: the walls were made out of wood... a cabin house?

The only things I could feel was the pain and confusion.

What happened? Where am I?

I was instantly reminded when Saeran rushed to my side, looking different from how I've ever seen him before; his hair much messier than it was the last time I saw him, the bags under his mint green eyes darker, and his clothes were both different and disheveled — black pants and a plain white button-up. "Are you okay?!" he asked, both frantic and rushed.

Oh, right...

The Believer. The gun, originally aimed at my head. Saeran's loud, angry knocking. How his knocking had caused the Believer's aim to shift from the shock, and... the gunshot. Saeran's sudden, surprising concern.

Analysing the little details on Saeran's face, such as his darkened bags and slightly red, puffy eyes... showed that his concern was so genuine, he'd actually been crying and losing sleep (more so than before) because of it.

Again the question presented itself: Why?

Realising I was staring while he was awaiting an answer from me, I hesitantly replied, "I-I'm okay." His face scrunched up, not seeming to buy my response and possibly expecting a better reply, so I elaborated, "I mean, my stomach really hurts, and I'm kinda confused, but otherwise I'm okay."

Saeran only became more puzzled, it seemed, at my words. "Confused? Oh. Right. You probably noticed that this isn't the Magenta building. I didn't think it would be smart to keep you there after what happened; so I brought you here to tend to your wound, and watch over you." He averted his eyes, continuing, "I managed to dig the bullet shell out and stitched up the wound the best I could before bandaging it. You've been unconscious for a little over two days though, and I was starting to worry..." His voice trailed off, and he turned his gaze back to me, a mixture of emotions flashing through his face as he seemed to be deep in thought.

"Uh, I mean, I was wondering about that, too, but that wasn't exactly what I meant..." I glanced down at my lap, awkwardly scratching an itchy spot on my cheek.

"What are you talking about?"

I inhaled, shut my eyes, and explained, "Well, you know, ever since your uh, Ray persona left, you've been a bit... rude. So I guess I don't understand why, after that, you'd care about me."

I expected an outburst from the white-haired man; whether it was as small as yelling at me, or as big as using violence against me.

But instead, Saeran was dead silent. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw why — his mint green orbs were wide with shock. However, soon after he noticed my staring, he seemed to pick up on my hidden fear of him, and his expression immediately shifted to one that I recognised all too well — regret. To my surprise, his eyes quickly watered, spilling over his cheeks at an alarming rate, and he placed his head down, hiding his face with his arms as heart-wrenching sobs overtook him.

"S-Saeran?" I called softly, my hand instinctively reaching out to smoothen his hair, but I stopped myself before it touched him. My hand hovered over his head in hesitation. Would touching him worsen or better the situation? I wasn't sure.

I decided to risk it though, allowing my hand to gently drop. As my fingers combed through his soft, messy locks, I couldn't really tell if I was calming him down or making him cry more. Eventually, he lifted his head slowly, his tearful eyes refusing to look at me, and my heart ached. My hand naturally slid down to cup his cheek, my thumb lightly brushing away his tears. He hesitated before his own hand reached up to press mine closer to his face.

"Saeran–"

"Don't," he snapped, but his tone wasn't intimidating nor rude. He sounded... more broken, than anything else. He sighed, and, seeming to put thought into his words rather than spitting them out, he muttered, "I've been thinking a lot since... that incident. I don't think I ever truly meant what I said to you. I think... it was more of a defense mechanism." He glanced over for a second to take in my confused expression, then continued, "I'm not sure if I told you this myself — you might've heard it from V — but when we were younger, Saeyoung, who you know as seven-zero-seven, mysteriously and randomly vanished from my side without a word. He was — is — my other half; my twin brother. I never knew why he left. My Saviour — err, Rika, told me that he'd abandoned me. She drugged and brainwashed me into believing that the brother I looked up to and loved so much... actually just abandoned me. She told me it was because I was weak, and worthless to him... and I believed her.

"I believed her when she told me V was the bad person. I believed her when she said she'd make me strong if I followed her. Every word she said, I believed..." I was beginning to feel sad myself, and Saeran noticed. He hesitantly held my face in his hands, so gently, it seemed he was afraid I'd shatter into pieces like glass. "I think... I treated you poorly because I was scared you'd do the same: leave without saying anything. I tried, so hard, to convince myself that I was being mean to you because you truly meant nothing to me; but that wasn't true. There was no way that could ever be true. I only did it out of fear; I was so afraid that if I continued to treasure you, you'd turn your back on me. And I desperately wanted to avoid that. But I realise now that what I did was wrong. And I regret it." He sighed. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me. My actions were very unforgivable. But I'm eternally sorry for everything. I'd like to prove myself to you that I can — no, that I will be better, if only you'd give me the chance to..."

At the end, his voice trailed off as he started to cry again, his tears coming more slowly this time. With a few tears in my own eyes, I whispered, "Saeran... of course I forgive you."

"Why?" he asked immediately; but it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Again he was avoiding my eyes, so I softly requested, "Saeran, please look at me." Hesitantly, he did, and I smiled sadly. "I forgive you because you didn't know how to properly handle your emotions. I don't think that's your fault at all — if anything, Rika's the one to blame. From what you and V have told me, it seems like she forced you to follow her every word, to stay by her side and blindly trust her like a lost puppy. You never had anyone to show you how to deal with various emotions in a healthy way — and your past only amplified that. So yes, I forgive you, and of course I'll give you a chance to be better, because I know you won't ever disappoint me. You have so much potential, Saeran, and I know you'll live up to it."

Saeran's jaw was slightly hanging, yet there was such an adoration in his eyes, I couldn't help but giggle at his oddly cute expression. Seeming to recollect himself at the sound, he shut his mouth and swiftly reached over, pulling me into his arms. The quick motion caused me to wince in pain, and he immediately let go. "Sorry..."

I merely laughed again. "It's okay." I opened my arms to him, and he didn't hesitate to embrace me, this time gently. I rested my chin on top of his head, his soft hair tickling my neck, and I let one hand lay securely on his back, holding him to me, while the other played with his hair and smoothened it.

For a silent, comfortable moment, we simply enjoyed each other's warmth. Then, he pulled away slightly, staring into my eyes with such a deep intensity, I blushed — and he only made that blush worse by stating with absolute certainty, "I love you."

My first instinct was to say it back, but when I couldn't find my voice, I resorted to gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging him close enough so I could kiss him. He seemed shocked at first, like he had been the very first time I'd ever kissed him — however, this time he wasn't flustered to the point of running away. In fact, he let a small smile creep onto his lips, and gently slid a hand into my hair (which was no doubt messy and tangled) as he returned my kiss. He broke it shortly after, a look in his eyes hinting he'd kiss me more if it weren't for my current situation; his smile cute and innocent. "Rest up. I'll bring you some soup if you're hungry."

"Please do." He nodded, and stood to exit. Before he walked out, I called to him, "I love you, Saeran."

Saeran turned his head with the most endearing smile on his face. "I love you too, princess~."

~~~~

A couple months later.

With Saeran's help, my wound healed rather quickly. When I was well enough, he gave me back my phone. Upon opening the RFA app, I went through a number of the chatrooms I'd missed, noticing that everyone was worried not only for me but for Saeran as well — which, to my surprise, was because V came clean about Mint Eye and Saeran, and even mentioning Rika (probably because he realised there was no way around it); saying he was only bringing it all to their attention after hearing the gunshot and seeing Saeran run out of the building, carrying me (unconscious at that point) in his arms with blood on my hands and seeping through the dark material of the black dress I was wearing. Saeyoung was the most shocked about Saeran, while Yoosung was most shocked about Rika.

After reading though everything, I entered the chatroom since everyone was present and worrying like crazy — which only increased at my sudden reappearance. I told them I was okay, my wound was healing, and (before Saeyoung even asked) Saeran was also okay and watching over me.

I kept updating them as I healed, and, once I'd almost made a full recovery, managed to convince Saeran to meet up with the RFA (V included) and reunite with his brother — which was surprisingly easier than I'd thought. With his approval, I'd sent Saeyoung our current coordinates, allowing him to grab us and be the first one to see both myself and Saeran.

The twins had a touching reunion when he finally arrived at the scene. Lots of tears were shed from all three of us, and it was difficult to determine who cried the most. Saeyoung first hugged Saeran, telling him how happy he was to see him again, alive and well — and then he embraced me, careful of my still healing wound, repeatedly thanking me for helping his brother escape Rika's toxic clutches, which allowed them to meet again.

Soon after, Saeran joined the RFA, Rika was caught and Mint Eye was shut down, and I had fully recovered from the gunshot wound.

It was June eleventh — the twins' birthday. Saeyoung suggested the RFA celebrate it by having a picnic in a field of flowers since he'd come to discover Saeran's love and knowledge of flowers. I decided to wear something simple yet beautiful — a plain white sun dress with a bit of lace and a nice twirl when I spun. Saeyoung wore a black button-up shirt and jeans, and Saeran wore the same, but with a white shirt instead. The moment Saeran saw me and took in my appearance, a small blush and a warm smile appeared in his face.

Saeyoung had asked Jumin to find the "finest field of flowers you have!" (his words, not mine) to make Saeran happy, and Jumin certainly came through. When we arrived, Saeran and I shared a look of awe, which V noticed and gave us a slight smile — the field was as breathtaking (if not more so) as the garden Saeran had tended to at Mint Eye.

Saeran's eyes instantly lit up at the sight of all the flowers, and, after taking it all in, he took my hand and ran towards it, with me giggling as he pulled me along. Thankfully I'd chosen simple Greek-style flats — they were gold and had straps that snaked up my legs, those and the lack of a heel preventing the shoes from slipping off my feet.

Eventually, he stopped to pick some flowers — two tall sunflowers. He turned, not dropping my hand, and held them out to me with an adoring smile. Taking them with a warm smile on my face, I asked, "Saeran, what's the meaning behind sunflowers?"

His smile grew, and I could tell from the twinkle in his eyes that he was eager to answer my question. "The sunflower... means adoration, loyalty, and longevity. They also represent the sun, if that wasn't obvious from the name. They're known for being happy flowers, too. So I wanted to give you these for a while... because I adore you, and I long for you, and I'm going to be loyal to you, and most of all I want you to be happy."

I beamed. "That's beautiful. I'm happy thanks to you, Saeran." I paused to stare at the flowers in my hand, then offered one back to him. "I should give you one too. I feel the same about you."

"Oh, no, it's okay, you don't–"

"But I want to," I interrupted, "because you deserve it. I love you, Saeran. Happy birthday."

Saeran's face was absolutely stricken with love, from his wide smile, to his glimmering eyes. He leaned down to kiss me, and stated, after breaking the kiss, "I love you more, princess. Thank you... thank you for everything."

~~~~ END. ~~~~

#saeran choi #mysme saeran #mm saeran #mystic messenger #fanfic

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cursedstrayct · 6 years ago

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On that day. Episode 1: Answering the doorbell

Pairing: gender neutral reader and Chenle

Genre: There’s enough fluff in this to make a matress and a bunch of pillows

Summary: Chenle is an exchange student who gives piano classes to get some money and ended up teaching one of the best people he has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Words: 1363

Author’s note: This probably won’t be a very long series but I felt like writing something fluffy that just was too long for a oneshot. It’s my first series so if you find any mistakes or you think you could send some feedback, feel free to do so. Hope you enjoy it :)

Episode 1: Answering the doorbell

Summer was over and that meant it was time for you to retake your piano classes. Your mom asked you to mail the academy to ask for your teacher’s schedules this year. You received a quite unexpected answer, Miss Hughes was no longer in the academy because she retired. It was no surprise that she was old but you didn’t think she was old enough to retire. Anyways, the other teachers at the academy weren’t exactly your suit so you decided to search elsewhere, you always saw those papers on the train station board offering classes for various stuff, how hard could it be to find a piano teacher.

After two weeks, apart from noticing piano classes aren’t that easy to find, you were going home after school and you saw something that caught your eye, so you decided to check it.

Chenle Zhong. Piano classes, beginner to fairly advanced Schedules depend on availability and the student must have a piano at their home Prices may vary, take one paper with the number please.

The way the paper was written made you instantly think “Wow, this is a middle aged man” but the thing that seemed odd was the “oddly advanced” part, what did that meant, was he not a professional or did he have self esteem issues? You wondered for a while.

After you arrived home, you plopped on your bed and thought about calling the guy in question, you had this serious speculation if he was just going to steal your money. On the other hand, he was going to come to your house; all of the other options you’ve seen were in an actual building so right now, Mr. Zhong was the most convenient option.

-To hell with it.

You dialed on your cell phone and waited for someone to pick up, after a few seconds someone answered. It was a boyish voice, way too high pitched for the type of adult you imagined when you read the paper, he also had a very jumpy voice, maybe welcoming was a more appropriate word, he sounded pretty trustworthy. You agreed on a day and an hour and everything was set, you decided you’d manage the payments later.

The thursday of your first meeting arrived, you completely forgot about it so you were already in some sweatshorts and the blouse of your school uniform, ready to give a fantastic first impression. It was 4:30 sharp, just the time you had set a couple of days ago. You went to answer the door and in front of stood a young boy, he looked about 17 but he showed a much younger presence, with his school uniform still on. You were very surprised because it was definitely not what you were expecting.

-Hello, I’m the, uh, piano teacher. You must be _?

You jumped a little, maybe he noticed that you were just staring at him dumbfounded -Yeah I’m _, you’re Mr.Zhong, or maybe just Chenle.

-Yeah mister is maybe a bit too much.

You weren’t going to lie, his smile was cute, he was cute, and of course you ended up getting shy because of it.

At the level you were right now you didn’t need much help. It was just help checking the sheets and some correction on the finger positions, this lead to a lot of talking in the classes.

Turns out he was your age and he was an exchange student and to get a bit more money he was doing these classes. He talked about how music was his life, anything that had to do with it just made him go crazy. You could often notice that by how even the shirts he wore had an artist tour poster or a face you could often recognise. The interest he had in music was almost inspiring, seeing him play made you relax because of how relaxed he looked, he really enjoyed himself while playing and he also loved sharing that enjoyment. He made all of your “achievements” in class seem like a big deal, like when you pulled off a tricky transition at the right tempo or you managed to compose some things, he liked making a big fuzz about all those little moments by saying thing like “That sounded so nice” or “You really surprise me” and his typical “I’m such a great teacher”, all of these accompanied by a playful smirk.

When you asked him on why he did that he always said the same, it was to encourage you to do better because positive reinforcement or something along those lines and then he’d just shut up. It was kinda funny though.

By far the thing that he seemed to enjoy the most was when you managed to compose your own stuff or when you did changes to the sheets because it bothered you how it sounded. You’d never told him you had noticed but you had seen how he closed his eyes and how a little smile would run across his face when you were playing your short pieces. Usually when you finished playing he would throw an over the top comment on how talented you were and how great of a student you are.

After a few months of having classes together, you were pretty close to each other, seeing by how similar you were. You both enjoyed cooking, some sports and mainly music. Now you were even hanging out for other things more than classes. You both appreciated each other a lot.

One class, after you finished the other song you were reviewing, you pulled out from your folder a bunch of pages, covered in pencil markings and post its and some ink smudges from the pentagram lines. Your first full composition.

You were quite proud of how far you’ve written, it was just that there were some details that needed to be fixed and maybe you could see if it sounded nice being played by someone else.

-It’s not finished yet but I figured you could check it out -You sounded shy, almost as if you didn’t wanted for Chenle to listen but still felt it was necessary, y’know, for artistic reasons.

Chenle started playing, at first he struggled a bit because of how messy some parts were but he managed to pull it somehow. It sounded nice, it wasn’t a very complicated song, it was 80 bpm on Ebm7, almost every note was flat and the variations were simple, but there was a lot of feeling in it.

-That was really beautiful. -He paused for a second, looking to the front but not focusing his view on anything. -It sounds like a love song.

This comment caught you off guard. Was it that obvious? Now Chenle was only looking at you with a giant smirk plastered on his face.

-It is, actually

-Who is it for?

-A guy I met on vacation.

You met Lucas (Not the nct Lucas, just a regular Lucas) when you were at the beach with your family, he was part of a summer camp that was held there and you became pretty close. You became even closer apparently because you had a giant crush on him and it just wouldn’t go away. He was all that you could ask for, almost perfect and to your luck, he was going to be around your city for a couple of months so you thought that you could give him a not so obvious hint because you were clearly to shy to confess right to his face.

-He’s pretty lucky then, y’know, to meet a delicate friend who composed a full piece for him, so thoughtful of you.

Chenle looked somewhat disappointed. He thought he was being so clear with you that he liked you, so why were you so oblivious? Now that he knew why, he felt dumb. You had known Lucas for longer and apparently the dreamy look you gave when you mentioned him just showed how head over heels you were for him.

For now the piano classes had to continue until you canceled them.

#zhong chenle #chenle #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct dream fluff

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tpwkwrites · 6 years ago

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Never Sometimes Always - Chapter Six

Woohoo! Two in one day! What a legend I am! Enjoy! Masterlist and full series at the ennnnnnd!

d x

Never Sometimes Always - Chapter Six

“Wait! You did what!?” Violet was taking the train to Harry’s Hampstead home on Saturday, but the pair have been talking nonstop. Through text, calls and now facetimes. This newfound confidence Violet has is foreign to her. She’s facetiming a boy who she may or may not (definitely may) fancy while in the most unflattering angle with messy hair and disheveled pyjamas. And it was comfortable. It was so comfortable. “I didn’t mean to offend him!” Violet says a few octaves higher than her normal speaking voice. “I just didn’t know it was...a him!”

“Goodness, Vi.” Harry’s snort-laughing, his face half covered by his gigantic hand and Violet just imagines what it would be like to be beside him, snuggled into him and his beige sheets. When Harry’s laughter dies down they share soft smiles. “Hey.” She giggles, shoving her face further under her duvet so he didn’t see her blush. “Hey.” Harry sighs, looking around his room. “You should come over now.” “Now?” Violet questions. “It’s half eight. Surely the station is closed. And I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.” Harry huffs. “But I’m bored, and I wanna hang out with you.” “You are hanging out with me,” Violet retorts quickly. Harry rolls his eyes. “I mean in person. I’ll book your tickets.” “Uh! Harry!” Harry has his phone perched up against his laptop screen. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he searches for tickets to him. “How do you feel about leaving a bit after nine? Like fifteen minutes?” “Harry, what can we possibly do this late at night? I’d have to spend the night.” She adjusts the glasses on her face and plugs in the fairy lights above her head. “So.” He shrugs. “Or I can come to you. I’ll spend the weekend. You can show me around Cambridge. Show me ya classes and stuff.” “That sounds awfully boring.” Harry grins at the younger girl. “I just booked tickets.” “Harry!” Violet’s heart is fluttering in her chest. He’s going to give her an aneurysm. “Will you get me from the station? I won’t bring paps or anything. Promise.” “Harry, where are you going to stay? In my flat?” Harry’s now packing a duffle rather quickly. “Yep.” Violet groans. A boy is now coming over for the weekend. No. A man. A really attractive man. A really attractive man will be in Violet’s home for the entirety of three days. “See you in...” Harry glances at the ticket details on his laptop screen, “...an hour, twenty.” And then he hangs up. Violet immediately rings Amber. “Vi?” “Amber, please help me. Harry’s coming over.” “Over? Over!? Like over over!? To our flat!?” Violet gets up and begins to clean the sitting room, organising things that were already in perfect order. “Yes! With a duffle for the weekend!” Amber is silent for a short while before saying, “shit, Vi. You’re gonna have sex with literally one of the hottest men on the planet.” “Shut up, Amber! I need actual help. Should I change? Do we have extra linen? Should I sleep in your room? He can take my bed. Oh my gosh, my sheets have crisp crumbs all over them. Crap, I need to—oh my gosh, the rubbish is literally a mountain. How am I –“ “Violet,” Amber laughs, “chill out, first off.” “Amb,” Violet slouches down in the couch feeling absolutely defeated, “I don’t know if I can. I really fancy him. And I don’t want to mess this up.” “And you won’t. The boy is droppin’ thirty quid just to come and spend the weekend with you. He must find you at least a bit interesting.” “You really think he fancies me back?” Violet lies against the arm of the chair. “One hundred percent, V. He’s proper up your arse, literally coming all the way to that stuffy old school just for you. No offense.” Violet and Amber laugh. “What will you even do? Will you guys be, like, public cause that’s another thing.” “I’ve never really thought of that, to be honest. I don’t think so. He wanted to see the campus so I was going to show him around.” “What, like tonight?” “...yes?” Amber sighs. “You lot are the cutest. Remember I’m your maid of honour. I’m going to give you the best hen-do ever.” “Oh, shut up. We’ve only known each other for two weeks maybe.” “Which better proves my point. You’re both moving so fast. I really do support this. I’m telling Jen.” “Okay, I’m hanging up.” Violet grabs her phone. “No, no! Wait!” Violet rolls her eyes. “What Amber?” “I have condoms in my bedside table.” “Oh my gosh.” * * * Rockstar H: I don’t see you. i’m in the black mini Rockstar H: No wonder I can’t see you. you can walk you know Violet jumps at the sudden rapture against her back windscreen. She grins when she spots Harry. He sends her a small wave and she unlocks the car, allowing him to toss his bags in the boot of her car. Harry makes his way to the passenger side of the vehicle and slides in with ease. “Vi.” Harry leans over the consul and embraces the younger woman. He even smacks his lips against her cheeks, taking her by surprise, but she doesn’t miss a beat before placing her lips on his cheek as well. “It’s so great to see you.” “It’s great to see you, too, Harry.” Violet blushes and unplugs her phone from the auxiliary cable. “You can deejay for the next fifteen minutes to campus.” Harry grins, snatching the cord from Violet’s hand. “Is it weird that I’m excited?” “Excited for what?” Violet chuckles. A soft guitar melody that Violet recognises to be Jason Mraz fills the car. “I don’t know,” Harry shrugs, “touring a university campus.” “It’s not that cool I promise. Unless you like thousand-year-old schools and large lecture halls.” Harry looks out the window, leaning his head back on the seat. “I just think it’s cool. I never got to do the whole university thing, you know.” “Yeah.” Violet smiles and glances at Harry. “I hope I make it worth it. Give you the full broke uni student who only eats minute noodles and stresses every two seconds experience.” Harry chuckles. “Can’t wait.” The conversation ended there, and for about two minutes Violet was racking her brain, trying to find something to say. She realised though, once Harry had started playing Better Man but Little Big Town, that she didn’t have to say anything. The silence they were in was peaceful, and not forced, and needed. The two of them have been down each other’s throats (not literally, but Violet wouldn’t mind) since Monday, so this bit of silence is very appreciated. The campus was a ghost town; exactly what Harry and Violet wanted. Violet parked her car in the handicap spot (considering no one was here to use it) and got out the car, Harry following in suit. “So you come here every day?” Harry asks as they walk down the unnecessarily long walkway to the first common area. “No. Just when I have class. Last semester I had four classes. Three regular classes on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and a night class that only met Monday nights.” Violet explained. “Wait, so you just stayed home Tuesday’s and Thursday’s?” Violet ponders. “Sometimes. Most of the time I was doing my student internship at whichever hospital they sent me to for the month.” “That’s crazy,” Harry says in a far-off voice. “So,” he whips his head to her, “that’s a lot isn’t it?” “What, the classes? No way,” Violet chuckles. “Four is insanely easy. I had ten classes my first semester, which, in all honesty, made me want to off myself.” Violet and Harry laugh, passing through the main archway into the courtyard. Harry looks around in amazement and Violet was so infatuated. She thinks it’s so interesting that he’s never see anything like this, this mundane world of hers. “I’m just imagining myself with a rucksack and laptop in hand, rushing to class,” Harry admits. Violet smiles. “Well, if you were to go into law you’d be about a mile or two away from here. This is the pre-professional medicinal wing.” Harry’s mouth forms an O. “So this is future doctors?” “Mhm,” Violet hums, taking a seat on one of the benches under the large tree in the centre of the courtyard. Harry follows her, taking a seat next to her, closer than he had to be. “This might be the weirdest date I’ve ever been on,” Harry says suddenly, his voice making Violet jump. Violet smiled. Date. “Yeah? Why’s that?” “Cause,” Harry looks up at the glass ceiling of the common area, taking in the design and the way the moon shined over them, “cause I’m asking you all the questions, and it’s usually the other way ‘round. And like, you’re giving me a tour of your campus. Like that’s kinda weird. Not a bad weird. It’s cool. I wish I went to school sometimes. Probably wouldn’t go for law though.” Harry rambles. “Why not? What would you go for?” Harry ponders for a minute before leaning back on the wooden seat, closing his eyes. “Music therapy, maybe. Maybe education.” Violet nods. She can see that.

After showing Harry several lecture halls and small classrooms, they decided to leave the campus. But of course not without pictures. Harry even went back to the car to get his rucksack because “it has to be authentic.” Violet took several photos of Harry standing in front of the giant lion statue, one of him in a desk, looking very concentrated, and one of him pretending to be asleep over a set of lewd textbooks they’d found in that classroom. Harry even took some of Violet in front of the digital board pointing to nothing and then some of them together around campus. Her favourite is the one in front of the waterfall fountain. It was the hardest photo to take because they both wanted to be in it, but they didn’t have a photographer. So, with the brilliant idea of stacking objects and balancing Harry’s really expensive phone on top, plus the countdown timer, the pair got the perfect photo.

“Promise not to judge,” Violet says, standing in the corridor of her tiny shared flat. “I had no intentions of you coming here anytime soon.”

“I’m not judgy.”

Violet gave him a sassy look. “You made fun of me for liking tea the second day I’d known you.”

“Okay, but you brought that on yourself. Now let me in.” Violet groans and opens the door with much haste.

Harry looks around the flat with a smile. To very honest, his wardrobe is about the size of their entire kitchen/dining/living area, but he wouldn’t tell Violet that.

“Okay so you walk in here, and tada, the kitchen is immediatly to your left. It’s not that cool, and don’t mind the dishes. I need to load the dishwasher at some point. Keep going straight and here’s a really pathetic excuse for a dining table, and then the family area. We’ve got a nice little telly and a guest loo there.” Violet begins by describing all of the photos on the wall. She thinks this is her favourite part of the flat, the giant wall behind the double sofa covered in photographs dating further back than Violet could even imagine. “If you’ll follow me down this hall please, sir.”

“Of course. Lead the way.” Harry smiles at Violet and trails hot on her heels as she pointed out her flatmates' rooms.

“And this little room is mine. This is where you’ll be sleeping. I didn’t really take into account how tall you actually are so your feet might hang off the end. Sorry.” Harry chuckles and drops his bags on the bed, plopping down on the blush pink duvet beside his things. He smiles up and the girl and she sends one back, opening her arms wide. “Welcome!”

“Thank you for having me.” Harry grins.

“Mhm,” she hums. “I didn’t have much of a choice to be fair.” Harry laughs softly while looking around the room. Violet shoves his shoulder, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing her space. “What?”

“Nothin’,” He smiles at her yet again. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of that smile. “You’ve got a cute room.”

“Thank you,” she says. “I don’t have a lot of food. I need to do a food shop tomorrow, but I’ve got pizza from yesterday in the hob.”

“Sure, let's have that.”

Harry follows Violet to the kitchen and watches as she warms the pizza up in the microwave oven, shoved in the corner of the cluttered worktop. He suggests, “let's go to the store tonight.”

Violet takes the pizza out and gives Harry a questioning look. “To the market?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun.” Harry shoves a bit of Pizza Face into his mouth and Violet shrugs. “How many people could possibly be out this time of night?”

Violet checks the microwave and sees the digits 0127. So, with that Violet and Harry travel to the store, Waitrose specifically. There were four cars parked outside the store, so Harry felt safe enough to remove his paddy cap and extremely warm black jumper. Violet grabs the cart while Harry scans his Waitrose card.

“I don’t know what kind of food you like so you’ll have to get whatever you want for this weekend. Also, I don’t know how to cook anything beyond breakfast foods so…”

Harry chuckles and Violet follows him to the produce section. “I’d like to think I eat anything, but I can be picky when it comes to greasy foods.”

“You, Mr. Taco man, don’t like greasy food?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Not a lot of the time.”

“Well, just so you know, I can live off pizza.”

“Oh, I know.”

Violet slaps Harry’s shoulder with her hand and the pair continued their shopping in peace. Violet wasn’t sure what Harry was really expecting out of her, a friendship, a relationship, or what. But she hopes it isn’t temporary, because she hasn’t felt like this with anyone in a long time.

* * *

I know it’s been a minute but I’ve really had a lot going on. Camp started a week before uni, then uni and now we’re in the second week of uni and wow im so stressed because im a double major and im trying to go pre professional and study abroad for my masters but theres like a long process that comes with that and yeah. Im stressed, but it is what it is. I hope you guys enjoyed these. Sorry again its been so long but im baaaaaack :)

masterlist here!

full series here!

d x

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fortress-of-iserlohn · 7 years ago

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so like. i got into logh fandom and my otp by haunting chn fics (eng ones are so RARE like what guys i’m so sad) and i swear i started out in the reinhard/yang camp but somewhere along the lines i accidentally tripped and fell into reuenthal/yang and NOW I CAN’T GET OUT - don’t help me i’m happily gone.

(but no pls come talk to me i’m so lonely why is no one else i know in this fandom SCREM ;A;)

mind you, all i have canon knowledge of is like. 47 chapters of the fujisaki manga + 3 episodes of DNT & 50 pages of the first translated novel. so uh. i apologise very sincerely to everyone else in this fandom. (but i friggen love DNT yang with his not-so-subtle shade and school boy pout, lemme love you sweetheart. also reuenthal in the manga is A+++++++++ FINE. and mittermeyer is a giant puppy and their hysterical interactions GIVE ME LIFE. i’m all over that like cats on expensive kibble man)

anyway, so there’s me. and my tiny one person raft and i wished so hard that i could draw because like. ARTISTS ARE AMAZING. but i can’t so here have some dodgy ass writing.

i have like. 9k of backstory but i got tired of writing it ??????? slice of life aint my thing bro.

spoilers for the original series below but you probably don’t care LMAO so in reality i’m just cutting it to save your dash.

basic premise is that it’s brain ship AU fic (i’m trash leave me to my can pls) where some of the empire cast (well just reuenthal + mittermeyer ok, the TWIN PILLARS AW YIS) live approx 200 years after the alliance cast did (yang and reinhard still got into their super epic fights as per original time line etc). but as per canon when the THING happens and them creepy earthy church people try to assassinate yang, schonkoff (I HATE SPELLING THEIR NAMES OKAY) finds him in time and tries to rush him to the hospital. but however, because the alliance superiors are dickwads, instead of trying to y’know, save his life, they decided to take the opportunity to upload yang’s consciousness into his ship so that he can continue to fight the war (INDEFINITELY NOW) and then when it WORKS like a motherfreaking miracle, yang wakes up, is silent for about 5 minutes taking everything in and then is kinda like ‘yeah nah’ and promptly runs away into space to chug through history files and drink virtual tea until like. 200 years later, when reunethal picks him up randomly (on the side of a space highway LOL) when yang’s taking whatever a brainship’s equivalent of a nap is but reuenthal obvs doesn’t know that the hyperion is a brainship so \o/ (yang, also a giant troll, decides to let him do whatever. it’s been a long 200 years ok).

it was going to be a long 20k epic where they play chess, overthrow the empire in favour of some form of XXcracy and ~fall in love~ along the way, all that GOOD shit. but i have zero patience and probably am never going to finish it so.

this is literally the first thing i’ve written in about 1.5 years (since i saw star wars oh my god) because my attention span for fandoms and everything else in general TBH is about zero ohoho.

It was late, but Oskar couldn’t sleep, something restless buzzing at the back of his mind. Whether it was from a combination of the uneasy atmosphere from the crew currently on board, or his irritation at their willingness to jump at a mere ghost story, he wasn’t clear. His chronometer told him that he was due on bridge in about four hours, which was when he decided to give up on sleep entirely and perhaps take a quick walk around the still unfamiliar vessel.

He pushed his arms through his overcoat and exited his temporary quarters. He assumed it had belonged to the long dead fleet admiral of this craft, but there was a scarcity of personal effects that implied that he either hadn’t much down time at all, or wasn’t the type to care much about his decor.

Beyond the physical chess set carved from what looked like real ivory and the few volumes of rare paper books scattered about, there was not much to do in there at any given time.

He strode down the hallway, boot heels clicking gently against the metal floor. He wandered without much of a real purpose, distracted by random bits and pieces and by organising his thoughts from the day, so he could probably be forgiven for finally looking up when he arrived at a dead end and having absolutely no idea where he was.

To call it a dead end wasn’t actually completely true. There was a glimmer of light beneath the wall just to his right, a little bit of feeling about put his hand on a metal door, exactly the same colour and built to close at exactly the same depth as the wall.

The rebels sure were weird in some aspects, Oskar thought, tapping at the side of the wall where he expected the control panel to be. He wasn’t disappointed when the door hissed open quietly to allow him entry.

He only managed a couple of steps forwards before his feet just stopped. This room was nothing but a giant observatory, monitors bigger than any he had ever seen on a ship that did nothing but reflect outside back in. The galaxy and stars spun in a kaleidoscope of colours, whirling around him as the massive flagship flew through space, cutting through the darkness with ease.

He stared, lifting his gaze up, just to watch the splendor of space. It was completely different to his favourite spot on the Tristan, and definitely, the view from there couldn’t hold a light to this. He doubted any ship’s could.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere to his left.

Oskar’s hand instinctively went to his hip, where his firearm would usually sit. However, having thrown his clothes on absently in the middle of the night, he had forgotten to slide it into its holster before heading out.

He braced himself grimly. He knew every single person who was currently on this ship, and this voice was not one he recognised at all. He cursed himself for being too distracted by a pretty view instead of securing the room first.

Oskar let his cool gaze sweep the room in a casual sort of manner for a second before he finally spotted the figure standing right up against a massive screen to his left hand side.

The person, a man from his voice and figure, was turned towards him, hands held up as if surrendering. “Sorry, sorry. It’s been so long since -” He cut himself off and slowly walked towards Oskar, hands tucked in his pockets. “Anyway, I don’t mean you any harm, Rear Admiral Reuenthal.”

Oskar kept his weight balanced on the balls of his feet in case of a sudden fight. “You know who I am,” he commented, keeping his voice calm and disinterested.

The man was close enough for Oskar to pick out some details now - tousled dark hair, a double breasted blue coat. His eyes caught on the gleaming gold pin on the man’s lapel, lit for one brilliant moment by a passing star, showing the clear detail of a single line bisecting the pin from left to right, and a solitary gold pentagram sitting proudly in the middle.

An uncomfortable prickle slowly crawled up Oskar’s spine as he remembered his crew whispering about disembodied footsteps and glimpses of shadows turning in hallways.

“Well,” the Rebel Fleet Admiral said, taking a hand out from his left pocket to slide through his already messy hair. “I do tend to make it a habit to know who’s on my ship.”

He seemed to notice Oskar’s unease and stopped, still several steps away. Oskar could tell now that the other man was a head or so shorter and his bearing was very clearly not military, even if his uniform and rank insignia said otherwise.

“Oh,” he seemed to realise something, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. “Sorry, that’s very rude of me. Julian used to always go on about how I should make it a habit to introduce myself first.”

He smiled then, a warm curve of his lips, and his dark eyes lit up, glittering with stars just like the galaxy behind him. “My name is Yang Wenli. Welcome aboard my ship, the Hyperion.”

#logh dnt #legend of galactic heroes #my writing #yang wenli #oskar von reuenthal #logh #forgive me for i have sinned #i'm hyped af about the new episode coming out this week #i'm pro-yang 5eva #reuyang

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chxrmedexistence-blog · 7 years ago

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was that AVAN JOGIA walking around town ? oh, no ! that was just DEVI MULANI, a TWENTY FOUR year old SAGITTARIUS. i heard he’s currently a YOUTUBER/VIDEOGRAPHER and has lived in marble for FOURTEEN YEARS. something i noticed is that he can be FLIGHTY but also FUN-LOVING and LEATHER JACKETS, RINGS, HALF-EMPTY JD BOTTLES, LIT-UP LAPTOP SCREENS IN DARK ROOMS AND SILLY SMIRKS always remind me of him.

history/background;

devi is a lil shit lets just get that out of the way first

in regards to his childhood it’s kind of weird because it wasn’t completely plain sailing by any means, but it wasn’t bad enough in his mind to warrant it being a ‘rough’ childhood? compared to a lot of other people it really wasn’t all that bad lmao

he lived a pretty charmed existence up until he was about 10 when his parents got divorced

his mom ended up getting custody of him and his two older sisters, and she moved them all upstate to marble in order to be closer to her family

his dad still had part-custody though and they saw him every other weekend - although all three stopped going so much as they got older, and devi especially just grew further and further apart from his dad until he felt like they barely even knew each other. not that they had an awful lot in common in the first place. he wasn’t a bad guy necessarily, just more of a traditionalist, and they didn’t see eye-to-eye. even to this day when devi’s doing decently well for himself his dad is still tutting and pestering him to ‘get a real job’ lol

he got away with a lot of shit because of a combination of factors. the fact that he was the youngest child, the only boy, his mother feeling guilty in some ways about the divorce, and his eventual stepfather not feeling like it was ‘his place’ to discipline his wife’s kids

tends to make the joke that he “wasn’t spanked enough as a kid”

he was a class clown growing up and tended to show off for attention, and was observant enough to realise that was his ‘in road’ to making friends, and he’s been playing a similar role ever since

wasn’t overly academic, never could quite find his groove in any school subjects that he actually tried in. he was smart enough to pass, but never excelled

looooooooved movies and (slightly oddly) documentaries and biopics as a kid, used to ‘direct’ his toys and stuffed animals in little mini productions to show off to his mom. so he’s always had a creative eye.

eventually it all clicked into place for him and he went to college to study media production, and that’s where he met danny, who was coincidentally from marble as well

right now his career is as a youtuber, in which he has most notoriety as being ‘the cynical one’ in his and danny’s paranormal investigations - even though he likes to argue he has a healthy curiosity in all that ‘stuff’ - he just hasn’t been presented with enough evidence or experiences to make him believe in it all completely. basically homeboy is waiting for a demon to possess him before he admits defeat.

although that takes up most of his attention he’s also started vlogging and other videography/freelance video editting projects, which he hopes to pursue more in the future

personality;

as i’ve said, he’s a little shit. sarcastic as hell with a dry sense of humour.

he’s incredibly fun-loving but not quite extreme enough to describe himself as a ‘hedonist’. loves to party and get wasted and ‘enjoy his youth’, but equally enjoys lounging around in bed with snacks and wes anderson movies or parks and rec

is kind of bluntly honest; can come off as rude or off-hand sometimes even when he’s really not trying to be

is affectionate with his friends

very chill, easy-going ‘type b’ guy

a bit of a ‘lazy perfectionist’ - when he has the motivation for something, he becomes very thorough and detail-orientated and drives himself crazy trying to make things perfect. this, however, is emotionally exhausting and therefore sometimes puts him off doing things/taking certain opportunities and that in itself makes him annoyed at himself

not something he’d really admit to or feel comfortable talking about but he can be very insecure? particularly when it comes to what people think about him. he gives the impression that he doesn’t, but trying to recognise and reevaluate how people are viewing him is something he does by instinct constantly and can’t escape.

comes off as kinda aloof but he cares reaaally deeply for his friends, and is the first person that’ll be there for you in a crisis

extras;

has suffered with insomnia since he was a teenager

identifies as pansexual/queer and is very go with the flow up until this point in his life in regards to polyamory/casual relationships. he’s a bit of a commitmentphobe (nothing to do with his sexuality; just who he is as a person) and he just wants to experience everything life has to offer. it’d take someone special to get him into something serious but it’s… not something he’s completely closed off to if it happens. whether it's related or unrelated to his proclivity for flings/casual relationships, he has a kinda jaded image of love and relationships after living through his parents’ kinda messy divorce. if he's going to tie himself down he's gonna be extra sure it's what he wants to do and that it's the right person

basically boy gets around a bit lmao he loves experiencing sexual/romantic affection

he’s more of a cat person than a dog person

#marble:intro #{ dm me for plots or like if you want me to mssg you!! }#{ i haven't got any wanted connections up rn bc i'm lazy but i'll get on that tomorrow and in the meantime we can just brainstorm x }

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milcshq-blog · 7 years ago

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it’s been a while since i’ve seen somethin’ gay in the tags y’all i’m so ready to fuck shit up around here. please go ahead and read below the line to get acquainted with this absolute mess.

me first tho lol!!!

» my name is alex n i prefer he/him pls n thanks. i’m nineteen » going into my second year of university as a creative writing student » miles is my favourite muse Ever please give him all the love » genuinely would let you punch him in the face or run him over with your car though so hit me with your best plots

ok miles’ turn!!!

» baby miles mathias lie was born in trondheim, norway, twenty years ago to parents who couldn’t afford to keep him :( » so they gave him up for adoption (pls note his dad’s side of the family wanted to keep him sm but…financially they were kinda in shit) » his adoptive parents loved & cared for him as any parents would but they were also Young and Adventurous and Reckless and they just kinda wanted to travel a lot? so they never settled in one place for longer than a few months » miles has lived in france, portugal, italy, the usa, england & cyprus to name a few » had to drop out of school junior year bc, well, moving around So Much it took him a while to get the hang of languages so he could understand what they were talking about in school, but by the time he managed to learn enough to understand it when people spoke to him, he moved again » hs dropout & also finds out he’s adopted…kinda explains why his parents never really seemed too invested in his life!! (”nice drawing honey!” *don’t even glance in his direction as they plan a three-week trip to transylvania*) » didn’t rly know what to do with his life so he was like… i know !!! i might find purpose on the streets !!! *proceeds to get into bad crowd to help deal with Feelings* (side note: didn’t work) » spends the next few years drinking, smoking, partying it up (his parents are rich enough to support this kind of lifestyle tbh) » fast-forward to when he’s 19; wants to bang this super hot friend of his, thinks he might get lucky if he helps this guy’s sister w. a photography project (side note 2: it worked) » sister makes thank you post on facebook, shares the photos of him. he’s cute, tall, the photos have a deeper meaning. naturally he goes viral. famous overnight. » and pretty much instantly gets picked up by a modelling agency in florida, so off he went for a year & signed a contract w. some clothing company.

ok personality time!!!

» he can be an asshole. like pls don’t be deceived by the grin and puppy dog eyes and messy blonde hair bc he has no issue shitting all over you. » but at the same time like, hella nice? friendly? wants The Best for u » if he sees anyone lonely/upset he will 100% sit with them & try and make them feel better no matter what bc he Knows what it’s like to feel shit and have nobody to turn to » doesn’t mean he will ever even admit he’s ever been sad in his life tbh » will give and receive cuddles, no questions asked » gay af and the bottomest bottom to ever bottom but don’t let that stop him from flirting w. everything that has a pulse » actually not that easy but he acts it » very blunt, sometimes does enjoy pissing people off (you’ve been warned) » he’s very used to people abandoning him tbh? getting tired and walking away? like he doesn’t think he’s Good Enough for anyone and you can literally sit him down and try to explain this to him every day of his life but he’s just gonna agree with you just so you stop pestering him

very important miles points!!!

» also dances » tried to drown himself when he was 15, got stopped by a friend » is actually super depressed and doesn’t always hide it well, but he tries his best (usually will get super tired, not sleep or leave his house…or his room actually…for like days). & when this usually happens he tends to just run away til he feels a little better bc he thinks he’s burdening everyone. » miles went viral, his face is on billboards & magazines around the world. a fair few people will know who he is, or at least vaguely recognise him. » just wants you to love him. » in fact he tries very hard to be liked, even when he is being an asshole. » has a limping 6 year old pomeranian called burrito. » so fucking loyal. » HATES the assumption that all models are stupid. don’t go there. » can hardly sleep if there’s not someone in the bed with him.

possible connections!!!

» love interest ?? would love. but we need to talk about this in more detail. » someone he knows from florida ?? doesn’t matter if they’re famous or not. » an unlikely friend ?? » someone he goes to, to cuddle & nap when his best friend’s not around ?? » an ex. omg. give me problematic exes plots please ?? (like think something based on new rules by dua lipa lmao) » a past hook-up/angst fwb ?? » actually just give me anything angsty lmao i’m thirsty af.

#( about miles. )#drugs tw #suicide tw

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unf8rtunate · 5 years ago

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Report from the Field #5: The Field Trip

Reported by: Anastasia Tersk, Lily Templin

Ana’s father doesn’t approve. She hasn’t spoken to him in how long again?

I stared at my reflection in the cafe window. I figured I looked alright, but it was hard to tell because I rarely put this much work into myself. I’d even forgone drinking for the past few days so I felt less awful than normal. Still, I wasn’t sure whether the black eyeliner I’d put on made me godforsaken or hot. Maybe both; maybe the window reflection was lying to me. I puckered at the window, watching the raindrops chase each other. I checked the time, we were supposed to meet at noon, which was almost 15 minutes ago. I wondered if I was getting stood up, but decided that a quiet day at a cafe by myself wouldn’t be that bad either. Just as I settled my soul with the disappointment, someone sat down across from me.

“Ana? Ana Tersk?” She had dark brown hair, eyes to match, and a pale, fragile complexion like most fair citizens of Vorstock. It was as if she was waiting for me to say something, but interrupted herself, “I’m Lily. Sorry I’m late, there was this thing at work I couldn’t get away from. I’m usually very punctual, you know, but it’s just that,” She stopped herself again and peered up at me, “You are Ana, right? I’m not just rambling on to some stranger? Oh, I’m so sorry, I was looking for someone, but I’m just, I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” She began to put her coat back on and stand up.

“No, it’s alright, I’m the Ana you’re looking for.” She paused with one arm in her coat, leaning over the side of the cafe table. Slowly, her head craned toward me as she slowly replaced herself.

“Why didn’t you just say that!” She giggled, a bit nervously, “So, I’m honestly wondering, are you one of *those* Tersks? I mean, I recognise the name, but are you really from outside the city?”

“Yes, I’m one of *those* Tersks, and I was raised on the estate.”

“Woow… why’d you come here though? I’m sorry if it’s a weird question, but I’ve always seen the estates on the vids, I’m so curious what they’re like.”

“Well, I don’t know about the other estates, but I can tell you that it isn’t much fun to be a girl on the Tersk estate.”

“Really? Okay, I’m sorry, but why?”

“Suffice it to say that my father has a very overbearing personality, and a strong sense of tradition.”

“Cool… What’s that like, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“He doesn’t like women.”

“Oh. Huh.” She watched me in silence for a few seconds, her eyes taking in every detail on my face. I really hoped she wouldn’t point out how bad my makeup looked, but it was kinda cute how she didn’t know anything about the estates.

“Um, tell me a little about yourself, are you from the city?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been here all my life, but truth be told, I’m not very interested-”

“I’m interested.”

“Oh, in that case, my family has been a part of-” She stopped herself mid sentence to look at her communicator. A concerned face dawned on her and glanced furtively at me.

“Dammit,” She muttered under her breath, “I’m really sorry about this, but I have to go.”

“Wait, what? Did I do something?”

“No,” She got up and grabbed her coat, “I thought I told them…” She paused, looking at me for a moment, “Actually,” An idea came to her, “Why don’t you come with me? It’ll be like an adventure! What do you say?”

“Go with you? Where?”

“It looks like we’re going to the common district.”

“Okay, an adventure, I like it.”

I put my jacket on and followed her outside. She had her own vehicle, the kind most people in the family business wouldn’t have, but a respite from the rain nonetheless. As we left the cafe, I tried to resume our conversation.

“You were telling me that you’re in a sort of family business.”

“Yes, I was! For countless generations, we’ve been Inquisitors. At some point or other, we fought alongside the Bright King, but who knows what happened between that and the move to Vorstock, you know?”

“An Inquisitor?”

“Yep, that’s me. Inquisitor Lily Templin at your service,” She laughed at herself again. It was super cute. “Here we are, Lord Serebryakov’s manor. Have you ever been here?” We pulled up in front of a massive house covered in black, towering spires and long, foreboding windows. Some watchmen that I didn’t recognise had cordoned off the area and were holding off a group of press. Lily and I got out of the vehicle and I stood at a distance while Lily talked to one of the watchmen. After raising her voice, she turned to me with a smile and motioned for me to join her. Reluctantly, I skirted under the cordon and stood behind her like a shy child. She quietly finished her conversation with the watchman and turned round to face me.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Art theft, fancy one too. Wanna go take a peek?”

“Sure.” I followed her into the house, or mansion, and up a set of elaborately decorated stairs to a similarly decorated corridor that seemed to stretch on forever, gold velvet rug illuminating endless doors to mysterious rooms.

“This way.” Lily began down the corridor and arbitrarily stopped at one of the doors. I couldn’t see any discerning marks on it, but apparently Lily did. She carefully opened the door, which creaked in protest, and took a tentative step inside.

On one of the walls was a contrasted rectangle where a painting had once lived. Around it, the wallpaper had become faded and begun peeling, but not enough to warrant looking into. On the floor, an inscription, burned into the fine rug, which read ‘CROOK?’ in black, still warm, messy letters. As Lily took in the room, I noted a very slight implant from someone’s boot on the carpet where they’d stood or squatted to create the inscription. The other thing I noticed was the smudge on the window, which I wouldn’t have, were it not for the strange mark it left. There seemed to be no fingerprint from the perpetrator.

“What was stolen?”

“A painting of Kavir Randovic himself.”

“Really? What was it doing here? Is the Lord somehow related to the King?”

“No, but from what I’ve learned, the Lord was an avid collector of art. Art and money, so I’ve been told.”

“I see.” I examined the mark on the window again. It taunted me, that whoever had stolen this painting clearly had no fingerprints. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew that had had their fingerprints removed, but I remembered a place where one could get it done. Before talking to Lily, I took another look at the footprint left behind. In its wake were specks of red dust. I felt them, rubbed them against my palm. The dust was incredibly fine and surprisingly uniform.

“Hey Lily,” She removed herself from the painting’s former resting place, “Do you think we could take this field trip somewhere else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have some ideas.” I knelt down next to the boot print again. “See here, fine red dust. Right in front of the inscription. That could only come from the new industrial district.” I moved to the window. “And here, someone’s hand rubbed against the window, but they left no fingerprints.”

“I think I see, go on.”

“Clearly, our thief came from the new industrial district here, which means this painting in particular means something to them. In addition, they either came, left, or did both through the window, suggesting that they are athletic. And they had surgery to remove their fingerprints. There aren’t many people who’d want to have their fingerprints removed.”

“How observant. Anything else?” I thought to myself for a moment about the crime scene in particular. Why someone would want to steal Kavir Randovic made no sense. Founder of the city, sure, but what did he have to do with being a crook? The only thing that came to mind was the strange plea minister Bruke had made during his trial about his relation to the old King. Perhaps that was the link. And if it was, was the thief an ally of Bruke? Or and enemy?

“I suspect this theft may have something to do with the prime minister.”

“Wait, why?”

“During his trial, Bruke constantly compared himself to the old King. The inscription leads me to believe the thief is an ally of Bruke, maybe a partisan of some sort.”

“Well, I guess it’s good that you came along! Let’s go check out the new industrial district then. Lead the way.”

“Actually, I think it would be better if we paid a visit to a certain surgeon I know.”

“Surgeon?”

“Yes, I think he may know something about the fingerprints. If we can figure that out first, we’ll know what to look for in the new industrial district.”

“That’s a good point.”

Lily and I left the mansion. I directed her to a doctor who I knew about from when I’d first moved to the city. He wasn’t a very good doctor, but he was also unlicensed, so it all worked out. His office, luckily, was in the same place, on the edge of the old industrial district, situated below an abandoned office building.

“This is it.”

“Really? I thought we were going to see a surgeon. No one lives here, haven’t for almost 50 years.”

“I know, but this is the spot.” Lily followed me into the crumbling tower. I could hear her tense up as we went inside, probably because of me. What kind of person takes a date to an abandoned building?

We descended down to the subfloor, where a stubbornly locked door awaited us. I knocked on it, which elicited a startled scuffle from within. Some rude mumbles came through the door.

“Igor, open up, it’s me.” More rude mumbling and some uncomfortable metal scraping together, and the door unceremoniously opened for us. Standing there, sweaty, twitchy, and filthy, stood Igor. His mouth opened into a smile, so both Lily and I got a good look at the few teeth he had left. He wiped his stringy hair out of his eyes and opened his arms, inviting us in.

“Lady Tersk, so kind of you to stop by! It’s been, what, a year?”

“I don’t think so, Igor, I was here last month, remember?”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. I remember that. So what brings you back so soon? Something wrong? Need discrete advice? Discrete bad advice?”

“Kinda, Igor, have you ever taken someone’s fingerprints off?”

“Oh yes, a common enough procedure, why do you ask?”

“It would seem that a thief I’m tracking had their fingerprints removed recently. Do you know anything about that?”

“As a matter of fact, Lady Tersk, I do! Earlier this week, a remarkably well-to-do gentleman came to see me for this very procedure! I didn’t get much out of him, but he paid before and wore a cloak when he left. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that he worked for the Court!”

“Interesting, but you didn’t get a name or anything.”

“No, like I said, this gentleman was quiet as a mouse.”

“One last thing, Igor, and then we’ll be out of your hair, was there any red material under his nails? Dust, or dirt, or powder, anything like that, red?”

“It’s curious that you ask, I thought it strange to see such red dust when he was here, but it’s more strange now that you bring it up. Do you think it may have something to do with your investigation?”

“I do. Thanks, Igor, we’ll see you around.” Before Igor could say anything, I pushed Lily outside and closed the door behind us. She looked less concerned than before, but I was still worried I’d blown everything.

“That was… interesting.” As we came back to the vehicle, I let Lily take us to the new industrial district in silence. It dawned on me as we cruised through the district. The red dust must have come from the Havad Alloy building, a metallurgy that produced a red metal alloy used by the city. I brought it up to Lily, who thought it was a good place to check out, so that’s what we did.

The Havad Alloy building was cloaked in an unhealthy red fog. I could barely see through it, but underneath that fog stood a huge, intimidating facade. Black windows surrounded by stained red metal supports drew a picture of a skeletal structure, and the crimson lights from within didn’t do much to comfort me. Inside was similarly disconcerting. Nearly dead souls worked mechanically, creating the tools of the Court. I followed Lily, still silently, to the overseer’s office, which was situated above the factory floor, so she had a view of everything and everyone. She faced the factory, a small, thin woman whose age was apparent from both her position and her posture. She gave both of us a stern look as we sat down.

“I’m Inquisitor Lily Templin,” The overseer’s eyes widened with either fear or surprise, “We have some questions for you.” I could hear the overseer’s breath from across the desk, along with her heart trying to leave her chest. She knew something. “Where were you last night?” Lily’s voice became uncharacteristically imperative as she leaned forward.

“I was at home, Inquisitor.” The woman stuttered, “I had a quiet evening.”

“Can anyone else confirm your story?”

“I… no, but-”

“What were you doing?”

“I watched a vid about… um…”

“Something to hide, overseer?”

“No, I’m just nervous, Inquisitor-”

“If you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to fear from the Inquisition.”

“Of course, Inquisitor, I just-”

“Let me rephrase my question. Do you live in the common district?”

“No, Inquisitor, I live closer to the port-”

“Let me see your hands.”

“What? My hands? What do you want with-?”

“Come here. Now.” The overseer slowly stood up and sulked over to Lily. She took her wrist and turned her hand over. I waited to see if she had fingertips. She wrenched the hand palm up and inspected a finger. The overseer’s hands had no trace of red dust, and they possessed a full set of fingerprints. Suspiciously, Lily stood up and stared into the overseer’s eyes. Suddenly, I had another idea.

“Hey Lily, can I ask you something?” As she turned to face me, the terrifying visage disappeared and was replaced by a kind and curious face.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you think any of the floor managers live in the common district? I’d bet they know more than this poor woman.”

“That’s… a great idea, let’s go see. Thank you for your time, overseer, blessings of the Inquisition upon you.”

I once again followed Lily, this time back down to the factory floor. With the overseer’s help, we quickly found the most acrobatic looking manager. After introducing us, the overseer hastily let us be, presumably retreating back to her office. This particular floor manager was of a rather lean build, but still had an athletic air to him. He wore a kinder face when he learned of Lily’s intentions than the overseer.

“May I see your hands?” She asked, without the same intensity that she’d had with the overseer.

“Of course, Inquisitor, but why?”

“I’m looking for a criminal who’s lost his fingerprints, I simply want to make sure you don’t fit the bill. A formality, I’m certain.” The manager froze, his hands at his sides. Lily’s smile began to fade. The manager’s hands became fists.

“In that case, get a closer look.” He brought a fist into Lily’s gut, surprising her and forcing her to double over. I sprung into action, while he was still in the process of bringing his other hand down onto Lily’s head, I pushed it aside and, in one swift motion, dove toward him, taking him to the ground. He was stronger than he looked, though, and caught me unprepared, as I recovered from the fall.

He pushed me off of himself and scrambled to his feet. I quickly joined him and chased him as he zig-zagged through the factory. In front of me, through the red haze, I saw him push over a stack of crates and take the exit on the right. I hurdled the crates and my boots slid on the dusty floor as I swerved right. I burst out of the factory door behind the man into driving rain. I had to pause for a moment, but noticed him on the street below me as he turned around to see if I was still on his tail.

I dropped off of the roof and rolled, soaking my jacket and surely ruining my makeup if I hadn’t already. The red fog was gone, now replaced by a nearly impenetrable rain, but I kept on the trail of the man and started gaining on him. For all his strength, he lacked the stamina I had. In the middle of a deserted factory street, he stopped and turned to face me. I stopped, only a few meters from him, and took my knife out. He brought his eyes to mine and, through the rain, I could see that they were tired and pleading. He made the first move, running at me.

He reached for my wrist as he charged, but I was one step ahead, giving him my elbow instead. I dropped my knife into my left hand and slashed his shoulder, causing him to lose his grip, but not his guard. I brought my knife back, the blade aimed at his chest, but he was ready, so he grabbed the blade itself with his bare hand. I twisted, but he kept holding on. He grabbed at my leg with his free hand, pulling it out from under me. I fell to the ground, barely keeping my head above the pavement. The man got on top of me, and while I was unprepared, took the knife from my hand and turned it on me.

He tried to drive the knife into my neck, but I deflected at the last moment. Nonetheless, it scraped the side of my neck. With that miss, and the impact of the pavement, the man lost his grip on the knife and I took the opportunity to throw a sucker punch at him. In combination with losing his grip on the knife and my excellently delivered blow, the man slipped and fell off of me. I scrambled to my feet and picked up the knife.

As the man got up as well, we looked at each other again. This time, I made the first move, bringing my knife in low, toward his thigh. He tried the same move as before, grabbing the blade with his hand, but I was ready this time, and dropped my knife, taking hold of his collar and bringing my knee into his balls as hard as I could muster. Through the rain, I heard the knife hit the ground as the man disengaged me to fall to his knees.

I took a deep breath and sat down next to him.

“Why’d you do it? If you won’t tell anyone else, tell me. I’m not an Inquisitor. I’m just me.”

“You put up a good fight, for a girl.” I took a deep breath and leveled myself.

“Am I reading this all wrong and you just wanted money? Or is there something else. Tell me.”

“I won’t tell you a goddamn thing.”

“Fine.” I got up, ready to give him a nice kick to the head for his bullshit, but as I did, he gained one last burst of energy and scrambled for my knife. He tried to stab my thigh, but I got out of the way in time, so the knife only grazed me. In doing so, however, I slipped, catching myself with my hands on the cold, wet pavement. The man tried again with the knife, bringing it directly into my hand. The pavement felt instantly hot. He pulled the knife out of my hand messily and prepared to bring it down on my neck. I caught it again and this time pushed the knife into his shoulder, all the way to the handle. The man growled in defeat. I stared him in the eyes. Through my teeth, I managed to say, “Tell. Me. Everything.”

He stared right back at me in defiance. I twisted the knife causing him to recoil and growl more. “Tell. Me.” His mouth opened, but before he could say anything, there was a loud crack. I cringed and covered my head.

I looked up. The man lay dead in front of me, a piece of his skull missing, a splatter of blood splayed across both his and my back. His blood cooled quickly while I came to my senses. I rolled over onto my back, unaware of my hand, peering into the rain, desperately searching for a shooter, but finding nothing. I sat myself up and felt my hand again. There was a sizeable chunk missing from the top, but oddly enough, it didn’t hurt very much. I squinted into the rain.

“Lily?! Are you there? Lily?” There was no response.

Eventually, she found me, along with another Inquisitor, whom she assured me was trustworthy. I poorly relayed my side of the story while she listened. Toward the end, the details got fuzzy, but she didn’t seem to care. She sat with me while the paramedic dressed my wounds, sheltered from the rain. I even managed to stay conscious the whole time. She seemed worried.

“I shouldn’t have brought you with me, I’m sorry Ana. This is all my fault. I really hope you can forgive me.”

“Are you kidding? This is the best date I’ve ever had. We should do this more.”

“You really think that?”

“I do, Lily. I do.”

I fell asleep.

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